


Flung Out of Space

by cyberpunk2183



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Class Differences, F/F, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Science Fiction, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-05-02 04:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 69,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19192132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberpunk2183/pseuds/cyberpunk2183
Summary: The year is 2183. Therese Belivet, a down and out musician, bartends at a speakeasy on the upperside, trying to survive under a brutal totalitarian regime. Until the mysterious Carol sweeps into her life and shakes everything up. Both can destroy the other's precarious existence. Will the forces of universe tear them apart or can their love triumph over all?





	1. Grifters and Charlatans

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at sci-fi noir, along the lines of Blade Runner. The spin is it's written from the perspective of the ragamuffin swindler instead of the hard-boiled detective.
> 
> Warnings: Smut throughout, but nothing explicit as that is not my style. Graphic Violence is in chapter 6. Mild language. Will post more warnings as they come up.
> 
> This would be rated R if this were a movie.
> 
> I enjoyed writing this to Jazz Noir playlist on Spotify and also to the Carol soundtrack.

The haunting song of a sax echoes against the crackling, broken facade of ancient buildings. A lone beacon of stability in the moving nightlife of lowerside. Engulfed in deluge of rain as street lamps flicker, casting the crowds in shadows.

My dogs ache from hours of standing on the wet stones of old city, playing my sax. Even the singing of old Betsy can’t distract from the infernal pain of a disintegrating body. So I pack her up in her beaten case, grabbing a few clams for a day’s work, and ankle it on out there. 

There’s an old speakeasy on the upperside where I pull the night shift. I hope I can bust in early, because the rain’s heavier than norm. Getting in is the trick. 

The docks are the only way up these days for us lowlifes down here. Old cranky lifts that pull up just about anything you can think of back and forth. Trash goes down, hope goes up or so they say. It’s my sure fire bet to get up without paying the levy anyway. See, I got a mark.

“Terri! Yo, Terri. What’s up, babydoll? You going to stand me up again at the petting parlor?” Phil’s coated in black grease from working and repairing the wires that run up and down the massive lifts.

“What are you talking about?” I give with a wink and a sassy smile. “‘Course I’ll go to the movies with you. Dannie will let us in for free, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his hand at me. “Mooch. Take it you want up, yea? Plant one on the kisser for me and I’ll let ya straight up.” I give him a quick peck. He grins at me and motions for me to step up on the next plank, checking his card through so the gates open for maintenance.

“Thanks, Phil. You’re the best, eh?”

“Yeah, sure. Friday night, yea?” He’s already distracted by a fella yelling at him to pick up the pace.

“Sure thing.” He waves and the door closes behind me as I step behind the mass of humanity with the lights of commercials scrolling on the walls and ceilings, distracting folks. Now’s the time to make the real clams.

It’s easy to move through the lift and easy pickings. Slip my hand into a pocket or a bag or purse. Just a few, then when I get off I squeak into an alley, dig through the goods and take the clams, leave the rest in various places. No use tipping off the bulls in this neighborhood.

When I step back into the lights, it’s like I’m in a whole new world. There’s pink and blue lights up and down all the buildings and a narrow walkway with a trolley for those that don’t want to walk. I pull up the collar of my trench and snug down my cap, before ankling it out of there as fast as I can. No use sticking around and sticking out like a sore thumb in these parts. That’ll get the bulls on you fast.

The speakeasy blends in with everything else. A line of Chinese symbols above it and a slice of English saying the Nifty Owl. I drop down the back of a dark alley to open the back door.

There’s a line of pitted green lockers for the employees in the dark flickering light of the backroom. Shirking off my dark trench and hat, I grab the black top from the locker and button it up over my t-shirt. There’s a set of suspenders and a tie that I throw on with the fancy top hat. I look like a high-roller now. I don’t leave Betsy in the locker that’s a good way for her to get swiped, so she comes along with me. 

Before, I step out of the back I take a peak in the greasy mirror and shuffle my short black hair in a semblance of order. Then, I’m in the pay room where a fat woman with a mole on her face sits behind a desk.

“Well, Mrs. Grumfire. Good to see you,” I say as politely as I can. She glares up at me with squinty eyes in a white top.

“Therese. You’re late.”

I know I’m not, but it doesn’t matter. I’m always late.

“Sorry, ma’am. What can I do tonight?”

“Behind the bar and keep that out of sight. One of the saxophone players are sick, so they may ask you to play the second set. _May_ so don’t bug ‘em. Wait to be asked.” She blows out a mouthful of smoke after she sucks from her lighted vape.

“Yes, ma’am.” I turn to enter the speakeasy finally, but she clears her throat and I spin to face her again.

“Those pants are hideous. Find new ones. Something that doesn’t make you look like a grifter and get a drink, damn it. Your eyes are tired.” I duck my head through the beads and gladly take a shot of vodka before tucking a few clams in the register. Mrs. Grumfire has eyes on everything so I don’t mess around.

“About time, sweetheart,” growls the woman on before me. I think, her name’s Cathy or Catherine or something. But she swings by me, before hitting my shoulder and leaving the bar to me.

A trumpet moans lazily in bent light from the smoke of the bar. He’s dark and artful like a trolley on a good evening. There’s a dozen folks nestled in the tables, already covered in empty glasses, plates, and napkins. A general mess, but we must be shorthanded. In the back there’s red velvet nooks with round tables and little chairs. The high rollers come here.

No one’s at the bar yet. Guess, that’s Cathy for you. She’s not much of a Chatty Cathy after all. It’s a blur of faces tonight like any other night, working the rush of the holidays.

That is until she ankles into my house like she owns the damn place. I’ve not seen her before, so I’m not sure she’s a regular, but she’s an eye-catcher, a choice bit of calico. With blonde hair, perfectly styled, icy blue eyes with a bite like a panther, and lusty red lips, wider than normal, but they fit her face like she’s fine art. There’s nothing demure about her in her finely fitted red dress and over the elbow gloves. A bit of preternaturalness snakes around her like mystery and a fine drink.

She lights an old style gasper, after pulling off those long gloves finger by finger, and billows out more smoke to fill the room. Her eyes briefly lock on to mine and I feel the whole world shatter and come back together again in one instant.

“Hey, heya, doll face,” snarks the male waiter. “I need an old fashion and lollipop, right up.” He’s glaring at me, so I take it he must have had to repeat himself a few times. “Sometimes you’re so queer.” The world stops again.

“It’s right up, Bennie. Right up,” I say. I fumble with the glasses and make the drinks as quickly as I can. Fingers shaking as I try to hide it from his grubby eyes. There’s a few things I don’t have to lie about knowing how to do and that’s making a good drink. I plop them on the counter and he shuffles off like he’s not said anything downright offensive.

Casting my eyes around, I don’t see the woman again for a moment until my eyes fall on her near the stage side of the bar. She tilts her chin at me, blowing up some smoke.

“Well, hello,” she drawls in a low voice and a slow smile catches on her lips. It takes me a moment to get my gams moving in her general direction. I lean against the bar, taking in the smell of fine smoke and something heavy and exotic.

“What can I get for you tonight?” I ask, trying to sound cool.

“You’re new.”

“Yeah, haven’t seen you around though.”

“Ah,” she says, takes another suck of her gasper and let’s out a slow exhale. “Yeah.” She shrugs as if she’s answered that question. “Sidecar.”

“Right.” I grab the ingredients and fix her up.

“How long you been here?” she asks me, eyes flicking up and down again as she watches me work. I nod.

“Couple of weeks.” It’s a bit of a stretch and she eyes me carefully and I can tell she’s working back to the last time she was here and seeing if I was too. She blinks and accepts the drink.

“Put it on my tab.”

“Name?”

“Carol. Carol Aird.”

Carol. I tap her name into the pad keyed to me. It comes straight up. Carol, like magic on the wind.

“So what’s a poor little bunny like you doing in a place like this, really?” She drawls, taking another drag. I almost laugh at that, but let it go.

“Oh, you know. A girl has to work to live.”

Her eyes flick over me again. I can’t tell if she despises me or wants to be necking in the powder room.

“Ah, yes…a girl has to work.”

Right. I bet you haven’t worked a damn day in your life, doll. She takes a drink of her sidecar. Eyes seek out the stage as the trumpet player continues his slow grind of dark flavored music.

One of the musicians walk up to me.

“We need a sax. Bentz called out with the gripes. You up for it, honey?” he asks. Am I up for it, all right.

“Yep. Let me get Bennie up here. I’ll cover.” He ankles on out of there as I scurry for Betsy and try to motion Bennie over, but he’s taking his own sweet time.

“Ah, a talented bunny,” Carol purrs like a panther. I jump startled at the liquid sultry tone of her voice. “Can’t wait to hear.” She lifts her drink toward me and goes to find a place to sit. 

Bennie finally takes over as I make my way up to the backstage. There’s a crew of musicians, all a bit off like me, a bunch of ragamuffins and probably from all over. Just an inch away from being too unbalanced for most people’s liking. Only worth the music we can play or the drinks we can make. A shiver rolls through me as I open up the case, pull out Betsy and wet the reed again, wondering what kissing Carol might taste like. I’m sure it’s better than a stick of wood.

When the trumpet player finishes, a few of us step out again on stage, preparing for the next set. I let the others take the lead and I follow them. Then, Betsy breathes out slow and hot and heavy.

Sultry as the blue eyed swanky skirt in the front row watching me play. Her eyes flutter as she listens to the dark hints that I throw in with a promise. The band I'm scooting with, I’ve played with before and that’s enough for me to get a feel. I’ve enough practice with random jokesters and these fellas know what they’re doing. So we do the dance.

The music transcends me. For a moment, I’m not here on a beat up, smoke filled, blue lit stage. I let it take me someplace that’s not there, because it’s the only thing better than the dope and cuts the longing for the phanta that never leaves.

Before I know it, my set’s over and the old cranky pain washes over me like tonight’s bitter rain. Shoulders drooping, I exit the stage to return to the bar and finish up the long night.

I get there and Bennie’s off in a dash. I splash some more vodka in me, pay up the clams, and realize my dame left her gloves on the bar. I look for her, but I don’t spot her anywhere, so I cram them into my back pocket and pinch her info from the tab.

It’s well after midnight when we close up. Bennie’s job bites the worst because he has to give the bum’s rush for the drunks and clean up. I can manage to scrape out with my pride intact.

Mrs. Grumfire hands me my wages directly.

“Come back tomorrow night.” 

I shuffle back to the lockers and throw my shirt in it. I pay the clams to drop back down to my level, prepping for the rain and not seeing anyone worth pilfering from.

Phil’s already gone home, so I make a quick scramble back to my place. Hoping I won’t get mugged or shot, because there’s worse things that happen late at night to girls on this block.

I pop the lock on the apartment building and go up five flights to the working elevator on the east side. That gets me up to level twenty, but I still have to walk back to the South side where I live. Safer to enter in through the way I came in, even it’s long.

The apartment is dank, hollowed ground. A tiny room with a hotplate and a window. I sag off onto the cot, rolling up my trench for a pillow and pull off my t-shirt.

My fingers curl up over the twisted flesh of my torso, before I seek out the reprieve. What’s left of my crushed dope to take off the edge. I drop it off in two finger widths of gin and slam it back, before kicking off my boots.

My thoughts drift back to the blonde skirt. Shuffling out her gloves, I press the velvet to my face and breathe in deep. She’s smokey, exotic and spicy. Amber, sandalwood, musk, and vanilla fill me up like the finest of dreams.

Curling up with them and a tawny blanket, I let the night roll over me like the last bastion of hope, to start it all again tomorrow.

***  
Thin trails of grey light, send shadows of the blinds over me. Not much light makes it down here passed the upper level, but we get a touch. Groaning, I shift and find the palpable pain, before sitting up and going to the community showers to clean up. 

It’s bitter cold in my room and out of it, and the water is lukewarm at the best of times. When I return, I’m nothing but shivers as I shuffle through my few belongings. I pull on a t-shirt, hole-filled long sleeve shirt and my trench.

Then, with a sigh, I grab the gloves, fingering them. There’s three things I can do. One is the only damn smart thing to do. These gloves could get me a nice pair of jeans to wear to the speakeasy if I trade them in. They’re probably worth a week’s worth of clams.

I could keep them. Smell her every night until her scent is forgotten, but not the skirt, but then the dumbest thing comes to mind. I’m already hating myself as I stick them in a box and head down to the post.

A man with a salt and pepper mustache glares at me from the pen. He stamps it and accepts my clams, demanding repeatedly what’s in it.

“Just returning an item to a customer,” I promise him, relying on the truth, but his eyes squint up like I’m telling him the shadiest dirt this side of Manhattan.

He finally takes it and I ankle on down to pick up a a tab of the black stuff and street food, burnt scrabbled eggs on a tortilla. I sit in the cover of an old bookstand to eat and drink it.

The place looks different during the day. Not much better, walls covered in muck and the stones with piss, but it’s not any different from any other place I’ve been. Just got to keep my nose clean long enough to make due, make a few clams and roll on out before someone starts saying the wrong words about me.

Most people call me a vagrant in this neck of the woods. You can tell by the way people talk if they’re from your neighborhood or not. Eccentric is nice word, dangerous but nice, but some words aren’t quite as good like peculiar and divaguer. They’re moving toward getting picked up by the bulls. Unbalanced, hysterical, pervert or freak and kinky will get you locked up with the stripes.

So I work on blending in. Hiding out. Laying low. Trying to be a nobody, but not drying up and blowing away. You gotta have people like Phil and Dannie to make life mean something. Then, there are the Carols and I’m sure she’s going to get me in some sort of clink.

That night, I have enough money to buy more dope, before I head to the Nifty Owl, but it’s a slow night. No Carol and everyone shows up to play in the band, so I have to work the bar and beat out the pain without a drink since I spent all my clams on dope.

“Hey, hey…” Mrs. Grumfire stands in the door, waving me over. “You got a call. I’ll cover the bar. Be quick about it. Now scat!” I jerk as she steps into the bar area and squeeze by her.

Plopping down in the creaky chair, I smell the fruity flavor of the vape she uses before picking up the phone.

“Hello? Is this the night bartender?” Carol asks.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

There’s a long pause.

“I wanted to say thank you for returning the gloves,” she finally says.

“You’re welcome, Ms. Carol.”

“Carol, please.”

This time I’m working my brain into saying something coherent.

“You’re welcome, Carol.”

“As a thank you, join me for lunch tomorrow at Main Street Cafe, noon, okay? Least I can do.”

That catches me off guard, but my lips are flapping before I can think.

“The Main Street Cafe, tomorrow? ‘kay.”

“Good. See you then.” The phone hangs up and I stare at it, cursing. I’m going to have to shovel up the clams to get up to Main Street in broad daylight. 

I’m going get cuffed and scooted off to the clink faster than you can say hoozah.

“Main Street in that gid-up?” Mrs. Grumfire says, from the beaded door, waving at me. “My daughter left some clothes that might fit you.” She shuffles back to her office. Comes out with an old pair of jeans that look decades newer than mine and a top. “Wear this, without that old trench. If you have to, say it’s vintage. The street style in Japan or something.”

“Why are you doing this?” I ask her. She shrugs and plops down in the seat with a huff.

“I need you until Christmas. You’re cheap and double the bar and the stage. Don’t need the bulls messing with that. You tell me if Bennie gives you any hooey. Got me?”

“Right, boss.” I give her a curt nod and drop off the clothes in the lockers, before hopping back up on bar. Only thinking about one woman the rest of the night.

Carol.


	2. The Dangers of Pretty Dames

The cafe is obscenely bright inside, glinting sickly green tables and stained linoleum. I feel conspicuous in my messy trench, busted sax case in hand. Carol is in a booth, looking pretty as can be, when I slide my trench off, fold it and stick it next to me. Then, I sit across from her.

She’s dressed impeccably. A light brown mink thrown over the booth, red blouse and pinstripe skirt and a black scarf draped lazily around her neck, loosely knotted. She’s wearing enough bangles and pretties to pay for a year’s worth of living lowerside.

“Hello,” she says with that damnable smile that eats at my sanity. I nod. “I hope your journey wasn’t too long or stressful.”

“Course not,” I say breezily. Voice thick with exhaustion. The night had been long and the dope had knocked me out hard last night, but she don’t need to know that.

“So, what’s your name?”

Before I can think again, my mouth is running off.

“Therese Belivet.”

“Terezz Belivet,” she says in the most sensual voice. It sends shivers down my spine. “That’s an unusual name.”

“It’s Czech.” Because I’ve already laid myself out there. She might have enough to call the bulls on me. She might not. “People call me Terri or Thereese though—”

“It’s lovely, Terez.” She states it again and warm memories wash over me from the last time I’ve heard my real name.

A young asian man ankles over to us and passes out menus. All I see is a long narrow list of items with all the tiny Chinese symbols crammed in vertical rows. It keeps fuzzing out, since it’s an fancy paper, where they can change it up from a pad or something.

“I’ll have my usual plus a Haungju, warmed.” The man looks to me and the first hint of panic creeps up my chest with a hot blush.

“The same.” He nods and leaves with the menus. Carol pops out a gasper and offers me one. I take it, accepting a light.

“I love these little nooks. Where you can kill yourself and others slowly with these damn things,” she says, waggling her gasper. She takes in a deep suck and let’s out a plume of smoke. “It’s delightful when death is optional in whatever form you desire for the right cost.”

The drink arrives in a cracked specialty teapot, steaming. Carol pours out the alcohol in little cups for us. I’d never had anything like it before, too high class for me. But watching her drink, it’s both terrifying and strong—almost carnal in the way she devours it.

“Drink, Therese. Drink with me,” she says in a low hypnotic voice, so I do. It’s mellow and sweet and reddish-brown. Definitely, the best quilt I’ve ever had, warms me up, bats at the crisp aches in my body. I feel it start to droop involuntarily, tension running out like rain from a drainpipe.

“There’s a girl,” she says.

“So you thought I was Bennie, sending you the gloves?” The drink makes my tongue loose. She has a mysterious smile.

“I did.”

“Sorry.”

“No, I’m delighted. I doubt very much I’d go to lunch with him.” 

This new warmth isn’t from the drink, but her words as I find myself trying to hide a pleased smile.

“You live alone, Therese Belivet?” she asks me. That’s a weird question, but everything about this clandestine meeting is odd.

“I do. There’s Phil and Dannie,” Her sharp look tells me enough that she’s already a bit jealous, sending hot tendrils of desire through me. “Not like that. They’re just friends.” Both of them naive, easy marks.

“I see…No interest in becoming more serious than friends?”

I snort, bringing a smile to her lips.

“I barely even know what to order for lunch.”

The food arrives, a ramen-like concoction that sits heavy and warm in me when I start eating. It’s pleasant and more substantial than anything I’ve had for days, probably worth more clams than I have on me. We eat for a few minutes, savoring the flavors and the company in silence. The danger of meeting like this with our sort of agenda feels heady and rebellious.

“Do you work on Sundays?”

“No. You?”

“Not much lately. Maybe…you’d like to visit me. You’re welcome to. I’ve got a nice view of the city from my apartment. Would you… _like_ to visit me this Sunday, Therese?”

“Yes.” My lips are moving again without hesitation and that sultry smile returns and a hint of amusement in those glorious blue eyes.

“What a strange girl you are…flung out of space.”

***  
The rest of the afternoon is playing Betsy on a street corner in the lowerside, where it’s safe. Then, it’s time to meet Phil and Dannie at the cine.

I make my way up to the tiny projector room, where we watch the movie from a stained window. Phil is still greasy from last night’s job, but smells like home-made soap. Dannie is a skinny pimpled kid with a chip in his front tooth.

“Terri! Ya, made it!” Phil grabs Betsy and slides her under the seat. “Sit down.”

He offers a seat on the other side of the projector and Dannie nods to me with a grin. Phil’s already pulling out a little notebook with a stick of charcoal. He likes to write reviews for these things. Posts them on the net called the _BlueCollaredMan’s Review_.

“Hush, now,” he says distractedly. “The movie’s on.”

Dannie gives me a sheepish smile at his brother’s aloof behavior. I’m just glad to be off my dogs, feeling my shoulders round and wishing I could have something to drink to take off the edge. Amongst this crew, none would think the wiser.

When the movie ends, we pop out our rolled-up gaspers and chat. Dannie leans back, looking pretty pleased he ran the machine again tonight without a hitch. Sometimes, it’s a cranky thing and he has to stop the movie and tinker with the scrap of metal.

“Let’s blow this joint. There’s a get-up and meet down at Toni’s,” Phil says, puffing away as he glances over his writing. “Yea?”

“I got a shift tonight,” I reply. “Think you can get me up top?” He shrugs and nods.

“Real quick, if you’re heading up now, babydoll.”

“I’ll come with,” Dannie says “I’m going to the party too.” We ankle it on down to the lifts. I can’t help, but appreciate the company. It’s always safer with the fellas in tow. “Can’t believe ya work on the upperside, sweetheart. She’s a real prize, Phil.” Phil barely looks up from his notes, guided only by my arm on his shoulder.

“I can get ya a decent job, pays better than a speakeasy,” Phil says, casually. Looking up, he ignores his brother’s jibe. I always feel safe with Phil more than other fellas. He never pushes too much. “Got some old boys in delivery and packaging. I bet a strong dame like yourself could keep up.” I don’t argue with him. I doubt I could survive a job like that with a body like this. “Just say the word.”

“Thanks, Phil. I will.”

“Aren’t you leaving soon, old girl? You said something last time, during the Rambo remake, you were going to scoot on out soon,” Dannie broaches. I shrug, because I’m always thinking about leaving for the next neighborhood. New York is a big city, the biggest on this coast.

“No way, doll,” Phil says, throwing a protective arm around me. “Who’s going to entertain us with your shenanigans? You can’t leave!”

“Maybe after Christmas,” I allow. “We’ll see. You know how the bulls are.”

Both the fellas look at each other and nod. We know all too well how they are. Phil kicks at a cobblestone.

“Ain’t right.”

“Don’t worry about it. I got to go, kay?” I say and let him kiss me on the cheek. Dannie claps me on the back. “Thanks again, Phil. You’re swell. Both you fellas.” Dannie salutes me with two fingers, before I scoot onto the lift.

Work is nothing, but quiet flirting and listening to the joes and janes there. I get up and play for a bit when a band requests it and let my soul take a jaunt around the room before packing it up again in a battered small case.

“Not too bad tonight. Extra tips for the playing,” Mrs. Grumfire says. “Keep this up. I may ask you to stay on permanently. _May._ ” I tip my hat to the lady and she shakes her head, waving her hand.

One more long day, before I can meet Carol in front of the cafe we met at for lunch. She’s in a red breezer, hair tucked under a pañuelo, lips as bright as blood, and eyes covered in massive sunglasses. Her blue dress hugs her curves tightly under the mink.

“Well, darling, here we are,” she says with a tight lipped smile. “Hop in.” Sliding in, the breezer hitches a bit before we roll down the street, hit the exit, and for the first time in my life I’m in the air in a private vehicle.

It’s a vintage thing, with massive leather bench seats and an old style wheel. In the air, she has to use a joy stick lever for changes in altitude, leaving one hand for directional changes on the wheel. The dash is littered with various readouts and gauges. It’s a chatty little thing that chirps, rather than words like the cabbies.

My hands hit the dash and Carol laughs, a deep throaty laugh.

“First time? Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” she says, patting my thigh. I shift a little, because cameras are everywhere and this is a breezer. Her hand slips back to the large leather wheel. 

We arrive to one of the larger skyscrapers and the sky is gleaming dark purple with thick heavy clouds that spew rain most days. The upperside has catchers that drain it properly down into the lowerside where we get most of the flooding.

She pulls into a covered garage smooth and the place lights up with a flicker. We exit and she locks down the car with a code, before we ankle it on out of there. The elevator works and we go to what must be the top floor, stepping into a penthouse.

It’s magnificent and open, bigger than any place I’ve ever seen or been. Dark like the fashion is these days, ambient lighting tucked behind dark wood panelling on cream colored walls. 

“Want a drink?” Carol asks me. I nod, stiffly walking after sitting for so long. My dogs tell me all about it. She passes me a gin and tonic which I gladly take, trying to pace myself with her. She offers another gasper, but I pass this time, examining the place.

The windows attract me. They’re large, floor to ceiling almost two stories tall. The blinds cast vertical stripes across most of the floor and over the black leather sectional, against the dented cherry wood floors. There’s flying cars making invisible streets in the sky around the black pillared scrapers that look like jagged mountain peaks.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Carol asks me, puffing smoke like a chimney. “You ever see the sky?” It’s a bit greasy looking, filled with a heavy smog that dilutes the color I imagine. Having always been told the sky was blue, I’m surprised it isn’t…not exactly.

I look at her and don’t want to admit I haven’t.

“Sure.”

A twitch of a smile crosses her face as she peers out into the window like it’s the first time she’s seen it. My eyes are glued on the spot where the sun must be, behind the clouds and the catchers that let the breezers be topless.

“What do you do with your days?” I ask. “You go to the cafe, drink…and?”

“I do work, Therese,” Carol says, smile growing. “You thought I didn’t work. That I had a sugardaddy? That I was a housewife.” I nod, sheepishly and she laughs a nice full laugh that sends shivers through me.

“What do you do then?”

“Oh, I’m a detective, darling.”

My insides freeze. I know I’ve met my maker today and she’s done a good job. I didn’t even have clue.

“A bull?” My throat suddenly dry.

“Some might call me that.” Her eyes flicker over me, weighing and measuring every inch of me yet again.

“Are you going to turn me in?” I squeak.

“Now, why would I do that, darling?” She looks at me innocently.

“I don’t know.”

“Guilty conscious?” she asks with a wicked smile. My eyes widen a bit. “Relax, Therese.” Her hand squeezes my shoulder and the touch sends heat through me. Traitor body, still into a bull. Woman or no. “I’m an Outlier Detective.” Instantly, I relax.

“I’m not an Outlier.”

“Oh. Darling, I know.”

Guess, that’s obvious then. I shuffle away from the window to the baby grand in the corner.

“Oh, don’t be like that. You know what I meant.”

“Sure thing.” I know what she means. I’m short, petite, and don’t look like an Outlier at all. Whatever the hell they look like anyway. Damn perfect, I suppose.

“You play?” she asks, leaning on the piano. “Play me something.”

My fingers tickle the ivories. It’s been a while since I’ve tinkered on a piano, let alone one that’s properly tuned. I practice a few notes, before letting a silky jazz piece take away the last bit of tension residue in my bones.

“That’s nice,” she says, kicking off her nice shoes and settling on the couch like the panther she is. I feel a blush creep to my cheeks. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Nothing.”

“No family?”

“No. Czech, remember?”

“Ah. No. Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry.”

“Parents were killed in the immigrant quelling eight years ago. The regime placed me in a Catholic orphanage.”

“They didn’t have passports?”

“Yes, they did, but you know…it didn’t matter. Didn’t want to send me back, so…I got put in the baby clink for a few months, before an orphanage.” My hands shuffle nervously. “Can I have that gasper?” She passes one over and I take a drag after she lights it. I play a little more.

“I never understood the useless violence,” she drawls. “Isn’t the world violent enough as is without us killing our own damn people?”

“Not many would agree they were people.”

“But you, Therese? Surely, you do.”

“No, I forgot a long time ago.” I don’t know what she’s pulling at, but I’m not playing her game. I keep tickling the ivories instead. Let them tell the truth, because I sure can’t. 

“My family’s off planet. Had a brother, a flyboy, who died, but I doubt I’ll see them again.”

Not many people make it back to earth if they get off. It’s an expensive journey. Not to mention dangerous to integrate with the powers that be.

“Lucky.”

“Money can make or break you.”

“True.”

She crosses her pretty glams, stockinged feet slipping under her pretty blue dress.

“You ever get tired, Therese?”

“Is that the bull talking or Carol?”

“I don’t think you can take the bull out of the woman,” she admits, letting a puff of smoke escape her crimson lips with a chuckle.

I should leave, but I don’t have a car. Staying with a bull, even an Outlier bull, can get me in trouble, big trouble.

“Yeah. I get tired,” I admit and she rises to her feet. Crossing to me and gently removes my trench, to set it on the couch. I’m in the nice top of Mrs. Grumfire’s daughter. Then, Carol’s strong, long fingered hands glide across my shoulders, touching bone, sinew, and flesh before kneading with a soft expertise.

“Easy,” I whisper, feeling the pain lace through my right side down to my toes, but it feels so damn good. No one touches me soft like that, not like her. Not like Carol. I nuzzle my cheek against her arm, despite myself.

“You’re all right with me, bunny,” she murmurs. Fingers work a sort of magic through me that crosses the line of torment and pleasure, licking like fire. “Mmm, there’s a girl. Come sit with me now and drink. You need to rest.”

She leads me over to the couch and I’m surprised when I find myself dozing, dropping off into a heavy slumber of someone who’s not had someone to watch their back most of their life.

“That a’girl.”

***

Glass breaking snaps me a wake.

“Harge. Don’t!” Carol is upset. There’s a sound of struggle and I’m moving before I can catch up with myself. The touch of tenderness and stiffness falling away quick from Carol’s touch.

Slamming through the kitchen door, I spot a large man with salt-n-pepper hair, raise a hand to Carol. His meaty fist comes down with a crack on her jaw.

“You’re not leaving me, Carol,” he barks in a low voice, dangerous and cold.

“Damn it, Harge.” She staggers, large dopey sunglasses snapped in half and falling off her face, revealing a purple shiner thick over her right eye. 

I dive onto his back, hissing like an alley cat.

“Get the hell off her!”

“No, Therese, no. Harge, don’t! Damn it!”

He shoves me against the counter and I feel an awkward pop and agony in my back as I slide off. With a few hits, I pop him in the kidney and gut. He staggers, grabbing the collar of my shirt and raising his fist to rain down on me, but then Carol grabs his wrist.

Suddenly, not a broken housewife, but the bull she is. She twists it and I hear the snap of tendons and bones as his face melts into pure agony.

“You can hit me, Harge, but never her.” The coldness in her voice sends shivers through me for an entirely different reason as she leads him out of the kitchen. “I’m signing the divorce papers and that’s that. It’s over.”

“But-but…they’ll say I’m unbalanced. You’ll say—”

“Doesn’t matter now. You made your own bed and now, you’ll sleep in it. It’s over.” The door slams and I hear the soft pad of her feet back into the kitchen. I look up at her, still gripping the counter, breathing jaggedly.

“You okay?” I ask her. Her eyes flicker over me, not as hungry as before. I bite my lip, because I know that look too and I hate it. I look away from her.

“I should be asking you that.”

I try to shrug and make a face.

She goes to the freezer, pulls out an ice pack and wraps it in a towel before tossing it to me.

“Let me see, Therese.” She crosses to me and I stiffen, letting a hiss escape my lips. “I’ve already seen it.” So I let her lift the shirt to reveal the thick web-like scars, deep and cracked and unnatural. “Now, what the hell is this, Therese?”

“Outlier torture.”

“What could even do this?” Her voice is dark and dangerous now, all bull and no Carol. Eyes and fingers search for an answer.

“Chemicals and knives. I don’t even know,” I mutter, pulling my shirt down. “Blocked it all out a long time ago.”

“Does it hurt? Why didn’t you get it fixed?”

“You think I can afford a doctor?” I ask her. Her eyes widen. “I’m not a high-roller like you, Carol. Never was.” She touches my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Stop asking me that. I’m fine,” she says, with a wave of her hand.

“You’re bleeding,” I say, reaching up to the crack on her lip and she flinches away. I offer the ice pack and she rolls her eyes, taking it. Then, she goes to grab another one.

“Come on,” she says.

“Careful.” She slips an arm around my waist. I lean in and we walk back to the couch. 

“Let me get you something to eat.”

I don’t even know what time it is, but she must order something, because she picks up bags from a slot fifteen minutes later by the door.

It smells delicious and it’s another strange ramen concoction. She makes sure I eat, before taking some meds that roll through me better than the handout dope I struggle to put together enough clams to buy now and then.

“So you play the sax and piano, bartend. Is that all my talented bunny does?” she wonders, drinking a glass of Baiju, this time. She had said it would match the flavor of the food better, but I’ve never had an imported spirit.

Her eyes return to being the panther on the hunt. I swallow with a shrug. Wondering if I bit off more than I could chew.

“I play on the street in the lowerside to make ends meet. Phil says he might be able to get me a delivery and packaging job up here.” She looks me over and that panther on the hunt look fades.

“Oh, Therese. You and I both know that isn’t possible.”

“I know. A girl can dream though, can’t she?”

“And what does a girl dream?”

“What every girl dreams, I suppose. Finding a prince and a castle.”

“Something tells me you aren’t that type of girl, Therese.”

“You going to ask me about the Outlier?”

“No. You’re markings are old and you’re not from my district. Unless you think he’s tracking you.”

“Not for years. I think I lost him.”

“You _think_ ,” she challenges, taking another drink of the spirit.

“Years, Carol. Fucking years.” She shrugs.

“A pervert is a pervert, they say.”

Those are their words. I stare at my hands as they fiddle with piece of thread from the old jeans, nicer than anything I’ve ever owned.

“There’s not much anyone can do about it. Not even you.”

“You’d tell me…if you see him again?”

“If I’m still alive,” I say with a laugh and something stirs again inside of me as I look up at her and there’s a tiny hope she’ll want to see me again. “If we’re still meeting…”

“Yes.” The simple word sends flashes of lightening through me. My lips twitch.

“You don’t mean that. I’m dangerous. Anyone can see that.”

“I can take care of myself, Therese.”

“Even you can’t save me from myself.”

“But I can protect my own skin.”

“You know better than anyone the cost…the risk.”

“You don’t even know,” she says and rises to her feet, staring out into the darkening sky. “You don’t even know, poor little bunny.”

“I’m not a fucking little bunny, Carol.” She glances at me, eyes roving over me like she’s reading a book.

“You’re a fucking bunny, Therese. And I don’t even care.”

“You don’t care?” 

“I don’t care. Damn them. Damn them all to hell and back.” She finishes her glass, slamming it down on the side table, and picks up the bottle to drink directly from it.

“You work for them. They got bugs in here?” I glance around, knowing if they do, we’ll both be dead now or worse in the clink.

“No, I can check my own house. I can feedback the loops. I am not a fucking bunny, Therese.”

“Then, what?”

“Then, we see. What’s the harm?” she says with a shrug. “You’ll stay here tonight. I don’t want you walking back to your place at this time of night.”

“Sleep here?”

“I’ve got an extra room. Harge’s old room. Come on.”

She leads me up the stairs. Arm around my waist as we make our way up the spiral staircase. The rooms are just as dark as the lower ones. Mine has a view of the city too and the bed is wide and comfortable in black sheets against burgundy walls.

“I changed them,” she says with a shrug. “Here’s some pajamas.” She pulls them from a closet. I stare at them, because I haven’t seen pajamas in ages, dark with rainbow polk-a-dots. “Need help?”

“No.”

“Right. I’ll be back in a moment.”

She leaves and I get dressed, settling in the bed. I try to ignore how long the bottoms are and how the sleeves drape past my fingers, so I have to roll them up. The bed is the softest I’ve ever been on. Sheets like silk and I sink into it luxuriously.

Knocking, she steps in again with a black box and dressed in a silk white negligee. Her glams seem impractically long as she makes her way to settle next to me.

“You know what this is?”

Panic roils in my stomach.

“I’ve been off 3 months.” I swallow in a suddenly dry throat.

“You’re never off phantasmagoria, bunny.” She opens the box to reveal the flat tabs and pulls one out, thumb size and clear plastic red. “I’ll watch. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

I watch as her long finger makes its way to my mouth. Phanta on the tip like the devil beckoning me down the wide street. My lips open of their own accord and her finger stays there moments too long as it melts.

The world drops, and shivers and splays colors. Carol becomes a monster spliced in blue, white, and black. Horrible and beautiful all cusped in one and her finger tastes of ramen and vanilla. Textured in polka-dots and raw hot sultry sex.

“Come sit down, bunny.” Something guides me back to the dark mysterious sea of movement and the walls light up like a cold bastion. “That a’girl. Now stay with me. Stay with me, my bunny girl.”


	3. Down the Rabbit Hole

I wake up the next morning, awkwardly, arm twisted around my back and attached to the iron bed railing with a velcro scrap. But the pain is better today and my head more clear than I can remember.

Crawling out of bed, I change and make my way down to the smells of breakfast and Carol standing over the stove in a red flannel robe.

“You’re awake early. Wasn’t sure with the phantasmagoria,” she says and plates some food for me, placing it on the table. Then, she grabs some for herself. I sit down across from her.

“You don’t have to feed me again.”

“You working tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Call off. I’ll cover the cost. You’re not making much there anyway.”

“I’d like to keep that job.”

“Say you’re sick.”

“I doubt she’ll keep me.”

“I’ll call. Let me handle it. Just one more night with me, Therese.”

“‘kay.” Because apparently, I can’t say no to the vixen, especially if she has the phanta. Something, I don’t got the clams for.

“That a’ girl,” she says. “I know the owner.”

She gets up and leaves the room. I roll over the thoughts from last night and wonder how she knows I’m not an Outlier for sure, because I’ve been chased more times then I can count for just that reason.

She walks back in and sits down with a pleased smile.

“We’ve got the day together.”

“You sure, I’m not an Outlier.”

“Oh, bunny,” she says with a pout and seems to think about her words. “Of course, I don’t. I just didn’t want you to fret. You were in such a grummy mood off your phantasmagoria.”

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve seen enough on and off it. The shakes, red eyes, and that closed off look like you’re fighting to stay in this world desperately, because nothing is worth it without the juice.”

I shiver at that, tapping the table again and eating more of the fine greasy food. It staves off the last bit of residue of the drink, meds, and the phanta.

“So what are we going to do today?” I ask her curiously.

“I can think of a few things. You were tired last night, but now…” She reaches across the table and our fingers thread together. She squeezes it. “Wouldn’t you like to get to know me better?”

“Everything. I want to know everything, Carol.”

“Everything? That’s a tall order. I might have to kill you then.” She winks at me.

“There are worse fates.” 

She laughs again and I’ve never seen anything more gorgeous than the dame across from me.

“Will you touch my shoulders again? That helped…”

“Yes, of course,” she says. “Do they hurt often?”

“I don’t talk about it.”

“I’m not giving you anything if you don’t talk to me, Therese.”

“It hurts all the damn time.”

“Such language,” she purrs, rising from her seat and starts to massage my shoulders and neck. “Such a pretty bunny. What will I do with her today?”

“Anything you want if you keep that up, promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, darling.”

Her fingers dig in delicious and sensual.

“Shame you got dressed, since I might have to take them off again to really satisfy your needs.” She pulls down my top over my shoulder, nuzzling my neck, licking and nipping against the sensitive flesh.

“Carol?” I whimper. “What are you doing?”

“You ever been with a woman, Therese?”

“N-n-no.”

“Do you want to be with a woman?” 

“Just you, Carol. Just you, please.” Damn if I’m going to burn in the clink for this woman, but I’m already burning so I might as well take the good with the bad.

Her warm breath laces against my throat and she pulls at my shirt, pulling my seat back. 

“I want to see you,” she says. “Come on, bunny.” 

Her lips crash against mine. Hot, hard, and malleable as her tongue dominates mine. I grab her face. She picks me up and I gasp, arms around her neck as my thighs grip her narrow waist. Our bodies press together.

“Not here,” she says. “My bunny is too good for kitchen sex.”

Too good? Doesn’t she know, that I’ve had sex in pissy alleys, shithole bathrooms, and dingy dark corners of bars? Sometimes for a bit of clams, sometimes just for letting out steam. Not since the Outlier attack though. Not for a few damn years.

“Carol,” I breathe. My hands trace up her muscular arms. A paradoxical woman who refuses to fit in any box I try to place her in. She carries me up the stairs easily and lays me on the bed carefully. 

Pulling back, she places her hand on my belly, pushing up my shirt, revealing more unscarred flesh and then the broken, lacing from my back. Then, we manage to get the shirt off. Her eyes rove over the untouched flesh and a tiny mole. A handful of scars grip my left hip and tangle there.

“I never looked like that,” she purrs, before pushing me farther up the bed and chasing my lips, dragging her tongue up and down my body. Golden hair splayed across me as she pulls off my jeans and undergarments. My breath hitches, my body freed for the first time from the bondage of phanta withdrawal for this delicious heady moment of taking Carol in.

She nips at my inner thighs, fingers digging into the scarring. I hiss and she follows it with gentle kisses and a hot, lathering tongue.

“Careful,” I whisper, plead, because she can do whatever the hell she wants. She can fucking destroy me and I wouldn’t care at this moment. I just want her. I want Carol.

“Bunny,” she purrs, stripping my defense like she’s unwrapping a present. Her lips and tongue chases fire back up to my lips as she holds me there, fingers thread through my hair.

“Carol,” I beg. “Please.”

“Will you be my bunny?” She purrs against my flesh. “Be my bunny.”

“Yes, Carol. I’m yours. Take me. Fuckin’ take me,” I moan against her. She sucks hard on my pulse point, biting the flesh there, lapping a forgiving tongue against her violence. “Fuck.”

“Shhh,” she whispers, moving down more slowly now. Taking her time to strip, tease, and nibble down my toned body. Marking it carefully with her own brand, before taking me over the top and holding me there. When I crash, she doesn’t wait long to take me up again moments later. 

I scream her name over and over again, raking nails down her sinewy back as far as I can reach— until I’m sure I must’ve left my own mark under her robe.

“Therese,” she gasps, panting against me. Did she? I can’t think…it’s all blurry as the darkness lures me into it’s nest.

****  
“How old are you, Therese?” Her words bathe over me. I blink up at her. She’s still dressed in her robe. My head rests on her woolen, comfortable lap. Her fingers trail lazy circles over the spot on my shoulder where the scarring grips me like a vice. She’s partially wrapped me in a sheet, leaving choice parts uncovered for observing, I imagine.

“Mmm. You’re really beautiful, Carol,” I murmur. She laughs, blowing out more smoke from her gasper and sets it aside.

“Therese.”

“Twenty-one.”

“Now, Bunny,” she says, stroking my chin with a bright red nail. “That’s a lie.”

“You have to be twenty-one to serve alcohol on the upperside.”

“But that doesn’t mean you are twenty-one.” I start to sit up, pulling up the sheet to cover myself and she lifts an eyebrow.

“Nineteen.”

“Oh Therese. My little Bunny.”

“How old are you?” I ask, knowing she must be a lot older, but it’s hard to tell how old she is. Her age is a timeless sort.

“It’s rude to ask a lady her age.” She gives a sphinx smile.

“How do you know if a person is an Outlier?” 

She tilts her head, arching an eyebrow. Her eyes narrow.

“You don’t. Not really,” she admits, reaching for her gasper. Her eyes shifting away from mine with an air of boredom.“Anyone could be one, I suppose.”

“How could you make love to me if I could be…one?”

“You don’t know if you’re one or not, do you, Bunny?” she asks, returning her attention to me and stroking my cheek. “Does that scare you?” I nod and feel something hitch in my chest, looking away. Who isn’t scared the fuck out of their mind that they could be an Outlier?

“There are ways to tell. Symptoms that express themselves as the repressed memories rise for those that don’t know. You’ve heard of them. List them for me.”

“Starts with anxiety, mania, obsession, followed by full-on neurosis. The individual becomes unbalanced. Before succumbing to neurasthenia and hysteria.” I’ve heard the commercial a billion times. The warning against products or people.

“Good girl.”

“Is that it really?”

“No. It’s much more terrible than that, but you’ll know it if it happens,” she says. “I promise. I’ve seen it enough.”

“Is Harge an Outlier?”

“What makes you say that?”

“He was acting…unbalanced.”

“I did have my suspicions. It’s part of the reason why I married him. Sometimes you have to go undercover to reveal an Outlier when the memories are repressed. Time will tell if he is.”

“You’re not scared he’ll hurt you?”

“No. I know the press points to hurt even Outliers.”

“Like his wrist?”

“Yes, like his wrist. Just a little pressure and the tendons and bones snap like a twig.”

“What’s a twig?”

“Bunny, it’s the small part of a branch from a tree. You know, a tree?”

I shake my head. She sits up then, grinning broadly.

“I know what we’re going to do then!” She says with a smile. “I’ll take you to the park in my building.”

“A park?” I ask. “What’s that?”

“Let me show you. Get dressed,” she commands and claps her hands.

“But…don’t you want? I could…” I look at her. She pats my cheek.

“Oh darling…all in due time. You’ve got to earn it.”

“Earn it?” I say. She smiles at me.

“Yes, earn it, my little Bunny. Now, get dressed. Chop. Chop. Times a wasting. Time’s precious for us non-Outliers.” She laughs as if she’s told a marvelous joke.

I throw off the sheet, giving up on propriety after the dame has seen everything I’ve got anyway. I pull on a shirt and my pants.

“That shirt is ugly. Let me get you another. How old is it? How dirty is it? Take it off.” She rolls out of bed, scrounges in the dresser, pulling out another t-shirt. It’s definitely big for me, but it is cleaner.

“Are you sure? You’ve already fed me…That’s a lot of clams.”

“It’s a t-shirt. How many do you have?”

“Two.”

“Now, you have three, Bunny.”

I take it and throw it on. Then, when I’m all dressed, she waves me to follow her. She stops off into her room for privacy and comes back out in a pink blouse and wool plaid skirt.

We ankle on down to a different sort of elevator that goes sideways and even shifts directions, before going down.

It opens straight into a dark strange place, unlike any I’ve ever seen. Carol pulls me along until I’m on the strange grayish green material. I squat down, reaching out and touch it.

“It’s a plant,” I whisper, feeling the moisture that the fog holds as it scurries across the strange plains of the landscape where poles stick out with odd shapes sprouting from it.

“Yes, darling,” Carol says, squatting down next to me. “Consider it an even better gift than the t-shirt. That’s grass.”

“Grass? I thought it would be different.”

She chuckles.

“Different? Oh bunny,” she murmurs. She takes my shoulder.

“Careful.”

“Look.” She takes her hand away and there is a form walking through the fog along the path. “Do you know what that is?”

“Walking cam.” I can tell by the big head tucked in a white hoodie, telling of the manufacturer. “Let’s move. They stay on the path.”

We walk deeper along a grassy knoll away from the cameras, passing little signs that say _keep off grass._

“Touch this one. Tell me what it is.”

I’m touching one of the poles. Something like an old telephone pole, but the wood is different.

“A pole, but it’s funny with the plants sticking out of it.”

“A tree, Therese. It’s a tree. I didn’t see one until I came on planet ten years ago.” She reaches down on the ground, grabs a broken off piece. It’s smaller and narrower than the branches. She hands it to me.

“This is a twig,” she says. It’s dryer than the branches, all shriveled up. “Now snap it.” I obey, feeling the two pieces pop in my fingers. “That’s what a press point can do with the right pressure.”

“Oh,” I say and a shiver takes me all over. “I-I…that’s something.”

“Isn’t it?” she says, lips twitching. “Let’s keep walking. It’s beautiful, no?”

“Sort of alien, almost.”

She laughs again.

“I suppose, if you’ve been living on the lowerside your whole life, it would be. Do you think it’s wrong? That we’re the only ones who get to enjoy it?” She whispers this.

“I-I don’t know. I guess, it doesn’t matter if you don’t know what you don’t have.”

“Are you going to miss it? Maybe, it’s not a gift I’ve given you, but a curse.”

Maybe, I will miss it.

“It won’t be the same without you anyway. You make it special.” 

She takes a deep breath and continues to lead me silently through the park. It’s mysterious and damp, lights occasionally flickering through sections, but she keeps me in the shaded parts until we are in complete darkness. Her hand bumps my hand and her lips catch mine in a heated battle.

“Sweet girl,” she murmurs softly. “Let’s go back.” I catch her before she pulls completely away.

“Thank you.”

****  
The bass of techno pounds into my skin, my heart, my mind. Carol’s dressed in a sharp evening gown, all black and sequins. She’s let me stay in my clothes, because there’s no dress of hers I can wear that I could fit in. She’s too long, with those lovely glams.

It’s nearly black in whole sections, flickers of beam lights cast smoking reflections on a blur of shifting, dancing bodies. Carol weaves and pushes them out of the way, leading me to an upper level where it’s a little brighter with a bar.

“Drink?”

“Straight vodka.”

“Not very daring.”

“My whole life is daring.”

She smiles and orders our drinks, before leading the way to a set of couches in shadows. There’s a group of women in short dresses and casual clothes.

“Abby!” Carol yells over the din. A brown haired woman stands and hugs Carol. The lines on her face make her seem older than Carol, but Carol seems larger and brighter than life next to even her glamorous friends.

“Long time no see. What skirt did you bring? Who’s this? My, aren’t you a young thing. Such a cougar, Carol.” Abby bats at her friend’s shoulder and smokes her gasper in a long stick.

I blush at her words.

“Abby,” Carol warns. “Sit down, Therese. These are some friends of mine. Abby. Therese. Therese, Abby. Got any of the good stuff? We need an edge.”

“I take it, the phantasmagoria?” Abby asks, fishing for her own box.

“You didn’t take it last night,” I say to Carol.

“I wanted to see how you did. I can handle it well. We all can. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself being off of it for so long.”

“You don’t look like a druggie.”

“I’m not. We have the cure.”

“There’s a fucking cure?” I demand sharply. She shakes her head.

“I’m a detective. Abby’s a doctor. We can’t be addicted to the stuff and it’s illegal for me to give you the cure. I can give you the drug though.”

“Damn them.”

“Hush darling. Just take it. Be a good little bunny for me and I’ll watch out for you.” Her finger is sticking out again, tempting me with the red plastic of the phanta. “You can see all the lights better. Feel them.” Now, her voice is low and silky again. A shiver takes me.

“Live a little, Therese,” Abby dares me and so I allow Carol to pop the plastic strip in my mouth. Again her finger lingers and I taste everything, feel everything Carol as it dissolves.

This time I watch her as the phanta grows and washes over me. I watch as bark takes over her skin and she spouts leaves. She laughs again and I can feel it caress my skin like billowing smoke.

“Do that again,” I say and she chuckles and it lavishes me, ravishes me as the bark becomes fur and she’s the monster again as she chats with Abby. The music smells like ash and copper. I don’t like it. 

“Stay with me, darling,” Carol commands, a spiky arm around me as ants trace pathways up and under my skin.

“I don’t like it.”

“What don’t you like? Abby, did you give her a bad dose?”

“And waste the good stuff on low level scum.”

“Fuck you. I’m sorry, dear. I’m here.” 

_Shit._

I shut my eyes, but the world spins and gouges me like thorns. Tendrils wrap around me, strangling me, and the vodka sperms tiny fish in my mouth and my teeth fall out.

I come to, upchucking in a filthy john, in a purple black lit powder room. It tastes like piss, it feels like…I upchuck again.

A hand—is it a hand? Yes…not my hand, stroking my back.

“I gave you something to counteract it. You started convulsing. Damn her. Sometimes, she gets jealous. You’ll be fine, darling. I won’t ever give you anything that’s not from my private stash again,” she says. “Does it hurt bad? Are you with me?”

“Did you take any?”

“Yes, I’m fine. She gave me the high quality goods. Quit worrying about me.”

“How? I don’t understand.”

“I’m not addicted. I can see it all and see past it, not like you. It’s a chemical thing. I can go as deep as I want.”

“Fuck.”

“Drink up.” There’s a water ball in my hand. I look at her like she’s crazy, but obey as she pops it in my mouth. It hits my stomach hard, but shockingly it settles something. “Let’s get you washed up.”

Pulling me up, she leads me to a filthy sink, washing my face with paper towels and water.

“There. Take this for your mouth. It’ll clean it.”

It looks like gum, but when it’s in my mouth it breaks apart and mint fills my mouth.

“Swish and spit.”

I spit and my mouth is fresh as flowers now. I look up at her shocked again. She pats my face.

“Oh, bunny,” she says with a sigh. “What am I going to do with you? Ready to try again? I’ll get you some food. Stay with me. Don’t accept anything unless it comes from me.”

Outside, she feeds me peanuts and pretzels until she’s satisfied I’m not dying. Then, there’s more vodka. The others are zoned out in the phanta, with little circles on their temples.

“VR,” Carol translates. “It’s a fun ride. Maybe another time. It’s safer so you aren’t flailing around. The disco offers select programs. Come on let’s dance, I’m bored.”

She leads me downstairs and we let loose a little. I’m feeling a lot better, but I’ll never forget the images and sensations of the bad phantasmagoria. It’s something I’ve rarely felt, since I’m pretty good at sniffing out good suppliers.

Carol looks free again as she thrashes gracefully to the music. Her blonde hair wild and unfettered, powerful limbs nimbly cutting through the air. She never touches me, but she comes so close I can feel the hairs on my arm lift.

A sense of safety returns again, sinking deeper as she fills my vision, keeps others from bumping into me with a sharp eye. She makes it all seem so natural, yet no one touches me, except that ghost of a touch from her.

***  
She doesn’t release me until the next morning after another mind-blowing night. This time it’s phanta and sex with her. She lights up every cell of my brain.

Waking up, I feel like a new person. She feeds me breakfast, kisses me passionately at the door, and drives me back to the lift to drop me off.

“When will I see you again?” I ask. She reaches out and squeezes my hand. 

“Sunday.”

“Thanks.”

“No thanks needed.”

I slip out of the car, losing grip on her hand, and head back down to hell again with Betsy. It suddenly seems darker, even in daylight hours. I don’t see Phil and end up in my room too exhausted to beg for clams with Betsy.

My room seems more like the clink when I collapse and I wonder what I’ve done. If Carol really did offer me a curse instead of a gift, letting me taste from the fountain of youth, but denying me the benefits.

I take a lot of dope, fall asleep, and hope I wake up in time for work.


	4. Sundays with Carol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic Violence

The first few days of the week are better with the phanta in my system, even the crappy stuff. I’m clear headed, my limbs don’t feel stuffed with cotton, and I don’t have the emotional capacity of concrete. Even Mrs. Grumfire notices a difference and looks pleased.

“You were careful with the detective?” she asks when I arrive Tuesday. I pause. “Don’t you think for a second I didn’t know. She does this from time to time. Hasn’t since Harge, but you definitely caught her eye. I just need you until Christmas, so don’t mess around too much.”

“Right.”

“You could get in trouble for this. Worse trouble.”

“I’d rather live now and die tomorrow than never live at all.”

Mrs. Grumfire chuckles, sucking her vape and blowing out a billow of smoke before waving me away.

Come Friday, I take a crash, but it’s survivable. Even Phil and Dannie are wondering what’s up with me all grummy and pathetic.

Sunday, I wait in front of the Main Street Cafe as Carol pulls up in her breezer. Sliding in, we make fast to her apartment. She instantly has me pressed against the door when we cross the threshold and the door is shut.

Her hot tongue presses into my mouth, dominating and hard. She demands everything and more, pressed into me I can feel all the curves under cloth. She strips me out of my clothing and carries me to the couch.

“Easy,” I beg.

“I know, Therese. I’ve waited all week for you.” Her voice deep and needy, feeling in the cracks of my crumbling facade.

She claims me. Every part and then does it again and again until I’m a limp noodle next to her, raw and bruised, but quite content.

A blue robe falls on me as she fetches some food to ease the ache in my belly. I’m starting to really like the warm Huangji alcohol she buys and the ramen-concoctions always ease the edge off my appetite no matter how hungry I am.

“Mmm, you’re delightful, bunny,” she says, drinking and smoking, but mostly watching me from the other side of the couch with a glutted thin smile. Her big toe lazily draws circles over my calf. She’s in a red blouse, skirt, and hose again. Her high heels abandoned at the door.

My lips twitch. She crawls over the couch and me, grabbing my face roughly and kissing me hard.

“You need a bath now. It’ll help with all your aches.”

“Sorry.”

“Tsk. None of that.”

She leads me up the stairs, arm around my waist again, and settles on the side of a wide black tub.

Everything is dark colored in this bathroom except the gold finishings. Ambient lights and little flickering candles ease the harshness from Carol’s sharp features. She pours steaming water in and dumps strange liquid into so bubbles appear. I’ve never seen anything like this except on the nets and the cine.

“You going to cook and eat me?” I ask. Her eyes flick over to me as if she’s tempted to do just that.

Tilting her head, she replies, “The warmth will help. Take off your robe.” 

So that’s how it’s going to be. I let it drop off me, naked as the day I was born again. She offers a hand as I step into the water. Instantly, I retract my toes from the blistering water, nearly falling. Her arms tighten around me.

“It’s not that hot. You’ll adjust,” she promises. I sink into the toasty water and start to melt. “Get your hair wet. Just dunk it under and come back up.” I look up at her and she smiles. 

So I listen and when I come up, she starts lathering a good smelling soap into my hair. She makes me do this repeatedly. Then, soaps up a puffy web-ball and hands it to me. 

“Feet.”

“No.”

“Therese,” she purrs, so I prop one out of the water for her. “The Outlier hurt you here too?” She probes the tender flesh with gentle touches on the bottom of my foot. I don’t even answer as she begins to work, applying something soothing as she massages them.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask.

“It’s what I like to do,” she says with a shrug. “Especially with how rough I get. I know I’m a rough, carnal thing in bed. My favorite part is being gentle after that. The contrast is soothing to me.”

“I was thinking…maybe this is the way you find Outliers. Like with Harge. Pull them into your web and then make ‘em relax.” 

She blows out a bunch of air.

“Oh Therese, my little bunny,” she says with a chuckle. “I’m always on the lookout, but sometimes I need to blow off steam too, just like any other old Joe. Maybe more, considering the stresses of my job.”

“How do you do it? Catch an Outlier? They’re wicked strong.”

“Genetically superior in every way,” she murmurs thoughtfully. “Lot’s of training, good weaponry, and a sharp intellect.” She taps her temple. “And maybe a dash of luck.” With a wink and a shrug, she returns to her gentle ministrations.

“Have you ever been wrong?”

“No. Never.”

I lift an eyebrow at her cockiness, but she shrugs.

“I’m good at my job, Therese. Now, other foot and scrub everything good. Why do you ask me about Outliers so much?”

“It’s your job. I want to know about you and…and…I don’t understand why the bulls are always after me for being an Outlier.”

“Well, darling…whether you are one or not, you’ve got that smell of a vagrancy about you. Makes ‘em nervous. I’m not saying it’s right. Few things are right in this world.”

“I know.”

“Bunny,” she warns and I let out a sigh. “But why do you suppose bulls do that?”

“Because vagrants tend to be Outliers?”

“So they say,” she murmurs. “So are the poor, immigrants, gays, mixed races…anyone too different. Last time I heard anyway. Bloody, lucky for the right person, am I right?” My lips tighten, because I was never that lucky person.

“No.”

“That a’girl.” She pats my foot and stretches her back as she rests against the wall, while I soak. “You’re a lovely girl, Ms. Belivet. I’m glad you fell into my web.” Her eyes are hooded as she looks me over.

“For hot baths, massages, and good food. You can have me.”

She snorts.

“Is that all I have to give you, girl?”A smile grows on her lips. “To have my way with you?”

“I can think of a few other things.”

Her grin widens.

“Can I fuck you yet?” I ask out of the blue. “I’d like to. You’ve done so much. Please.” She stiffens as I sit up and place a hand on her thigh.

“Not yet,” she says, standing up. My heart catches with my breath, because I think I’ve upset her. “Soon.” The cut of light from the narrow window lights right over her eyes in the dark bathroom. Her eyes flutter down to me in the tub, giving me nothing again. “Ready?” I nod and stand up, accepting a towel.

She dresses me up nice and we go to a movie tonight. Something in black and white, English subtitles, and so strange I don’t understand any of it. Back in the apartment, Carol gladly takes me a few rounds again after giving me some phanta.

Then, she drops me off the next day at the bar, before my evening shift. Most Sundays with Carol are like that. The only things that change are what we do and Carol always has plans whether in the apartment or out of it. She likes showing me new things and dressing me up.

***  
It’s a few more days, before it all goes to hell in the lowerside. Riots break out. Looters trash the apartments, the convenience and liquor stores, the pawn and loan shops. It’s a mad house. when I get down off the lift after my stint at the bar, it’s chaos.

I scoot out as soon as I can, but every where I turn there’s angry mobs. A bottle shatters over my head against a wall. I flinch as someone’s elbow ramrods me straight in the jaw. Staggering, another shadow pushes me hard and then I hear the sound of the bulls, yelling over crackling loudspeakers. Red and blue lights flashes and the pandemonium grows.

Smoke grenades pop and fizzle as people cry out in pain and the desperation worsens, slamming me harder into the ground. The bulky black unit of bulls, in full armor, force their way through the street. With their clear, sparking shields, short black helmets with gas masks, and heavy batons, guns, and tasers. All of it lit by bright torches. A wretched cacophony of humanity beaten to a bloody pulp in their wake.

Busted noses, broken arms, grisly, ensanguined images shattered by the panic of gunfire and writhing bodies. Frenzied screams, furious yells, and a violence bred from living in a shithole.

“Don’t move! Don’t move!”

Of course, I’m going to move. I know what the bulls do to folks like me and it isn’t good. I struggle against the stones, fighting my dizzy self up, before a heavy baton smacks my face again. A boot in my gut, the moment I hit the ground and a knee in my back as another boot digs into my ribs. Stars of agony blast through my vision.

_Fuck._

My arms scream as they rake them back in some unnatural position. Then, I feel the handcuffs. The noise level increases as I hear other bulls charge into the fight.

My dogs won’t stay under me as they drag me to the back of their wagon. I’m thrown in like a sack of potatoes next to the other prisoners, unconscious or badly hurt, to be shuffled off to the clink.

When I wake up next, my face sits in a puddle of my own blood and spittle on a concrete floor. I cough up more, struggling to push myself away.

“Get up!” a surly voice growls. “Time for testing, meatbag.”

A thick fist sinks into my hair, before ripping me up. I try to grab the hand, ease the pain, but I’m being dragged out of the clink, passed a dozen other people looking at me through swollen defeated eyes.

He dumps me into a chair, in a small battered room, and latches handcuffs on my wrists to the table. He’s thick, musclebound with mop brown hair and a bulbous, once-too-many time-broken nose. His partner is a skinnier blond and almost handsome in a high-roller kind of way.

“Name.”

“Thereese Belivet,” I say, shaking like a leaf and not making eye contact.

“Address.”

“4503d South Quadrant Block 34th building 5 on Reinhart Avenue.”

“Birthdate.”

“March 31, 2164.”

“We have record of you on file as a potential Outlier in other districts. Any reasons for that,” the blonde man says.

“No.”

Meat Fists slams the table. I jump and look up at his twisted face.

“Try again,” the big man growls.

“No, sir.”

He smacks me so hard that blood splatters on the ground from my nose again. I spit something out thick and hard.

“Jack,” the blond man warns.

“She’s gonna talk before that bitch gets here. I’m going to make her talk. I want to kill a fucking Outlier with my own bare hands.”

“I am _not_ an Outlier,” I say, trying to stop the shaking in my voice.

Jack smacks me again. This time, it’s the other side of my face.

“You better listen to my partner or he might kill you for breathing.” The blond man chuckles. “Jack, you aren’t going to convince her with death threats.”

My head lolls back as dizziness strikes.

“Fine, I won’t kill you—just bring you an inch to death—if you tell me right now what you are, you filthy perv.”

“And if I don’t…” I start.

“You’re dead anyway. Slow or fast. Your choice.” His fist slides around my throat. So large it forces my chin up a little to make room as he slowly begins to squeeze. My vision narrows as he begins to crush my windpipe. I desperately try and pull his fingers away, but it’s impossible.

“That is not how you test a potential Outlier.” This is cold female’s voice, with a hint of familiarity. The fist withdraws slowly and I gag, struggling to suck breath back into my desperate body.

The familiar scent of a specific brand of gasper fills my lungs, along with an exotic spice.

Carol?

The swelling flesh around my eyes makes it hard to see. Through the billowing smoke, I spot slicked back blonde hair, cold blue-grey eyes, and unpainted lips.

This woman barely even looks like Carol. She’s dressed in a white button-down shirt with a flat high collar and fitted black pants. Her eyes address Jack cooly.

“This is my jurisdiction. So you will stay or get out, but I need to formally test this woman to see if she is an Outlier. The proper way.” Her eyes flick to me and there is no recognition, not even a tiny bit, as she glares at me as if I am a meatbag instead of a woman. 

A perv, a kink, a waif…

I lower my head and shoulders, defeated.

The words wash over me, belittling me to nothing as I stare at the blood splattered table before me. Jack leaves with a growl, but the blond man stays.

Carol gives me a shot on the side of the neck near my pulse point. The prick makes me jump. She sits on the table, placing a black suitcase in front of me. Opening it, there’s a tiny machine with a grainy screen, reflecting back my face the moment she turns it on with a flick of a red button. It’s gridded, examining my eyes, lip twitches, but offering no information except a print out on a scrolling piece of paper and wildly jumping meter.

“You pass someone in the street who is in severe need and you are able to help them at little cost to yourself. Are you morally obliged to do so?”

“What?” I demand.

“Answer the question. Are you morally obliged to do so?”

“No cost? Then, yeah…maybe depends on the situation.”

“Yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“You have a brother. You know that someone has been seriously injured as a result of criminal activity undertaken by him. You live in a country where the police and legal systems are generally trustworthy. Are you morally obliged to inform them about your brother’s crime.”

“…Yes.” In my head, I think no, because he probably hurt that person for good reasons, like they hurt him or stole something or he was protecting someone. That was the criminal activity done against him or that person was involved in something too, because everyone is in on something in the lowerside.

“Do you think that assisting the suicide of someone who wants to die—and has requested help—Is morally the equivalent to allow them to die by withholding medical assistance (assuming that the level of suffering turns out to be identical in both cases)?

“Um…I don’t understand the question. Pass?”

The blond man snorts.

“Yes or no.”

“Yes?” I literally can’t think of what she means by the two scenarios.

“You are able to help some people, but you can only do so by harming other people. The number of people harmed will always be 10 percent of those helped. When considering whether it is morally justified to help does the actual number of people involved make any difference?”

“No…” Again, I’m half unsure what she means. My answer is yes, but I know the right answer is no or I think it is. If the regime can kill 10 percent of lowerside people to aid more upperside people they would do that any day of the week. Never vice versa though.

“You own an unoccupied property. You are contacted by a refugee group which desperately needs somewhere to house a person seeking asylum who is being unjustly persecuted. Your anonymity is assured. You have every reason to believe that no harm will come to your property. Are you morally obliged to allow them to use your property?”

My tongue feels thick in my throat.

“Answer the question.”

“No, not obligated.” Carol knows I’m lying for sure now, but her eyes show nothing. The group would have to be radical, anti-regime terrorists to want to hide refugees and who would hide refugees if they could be Outliers anyway?

The questions go on and on. I lick my lips, struggling to come up with the right answers. The ones, I think she wants. The ones for the test. The ones that fit with what the government expects their citizens to believe.

She snaps the suitcase shut. I look up at her and try to figure out what happened. If I did okay or not, but still there is nothing in her expression.

“I need to take her into my office for further testing. Release her.”

“What?” The blond man’s shifts in his seat, not quick to move.

“You are obligated to release her upon my request. If she is an Outlier those cuffs won’t make a damn bit of difference.” He blinks a few more times and finally releases me.

“Ms. Belivet. Can you walk?” she asks me.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She nods and I shakily rise to my feet, gripping my screaming side. I stagger toward the door. Things are a bit blurry.

We leave the station and for a moment, I’m hopeful until I see the black streamlined car. It’s official, much worse than the bulls kind of car. Getting in that car, could mean going directly to the stripes.

“Ms. Belivet, you only have two options at this point. Get in the car and you might get out of this. Run and you will end up going directly to a psychiatric facility for suspicions of being an Outlier. It’s up to you. I warn you, I’ve spent the better part of my career chasing Outliers and keeping up, so think carefully about your response.”

The door opens to the backseat, dark and foreboding. I slide in.

“Good choice, Ms. Belivet.”

The door shuts.

She gets into the front and we fly to the upperside. I still don’t say a word, because I’m sure the car is tapped and if it’s tapped Carol won’t say a damned word or deny anything I might say.

Getting to the upperside in a car isn’t something I’ve ever done. It’s a lot smoother than the lifts, there are no commercials, and it’s dark mostly. We get right up to the bottom side, before a hatch opens and we float up into a garage looking area, before she continues up, exits the building and continues on, entering into the invisible highway.

The building we land on is one of four black curved spires that reach out higher than all the surrounding buildings. I know that these are government buildings, dangerous for the likes of me to even be near.

Inside, she leads me to a white office, painfully bright that has a view of the city reminiscent of her apartment. The office is austere.

There’s a silver desk, black chair. A computer and another one of those machines. A curved chair sits in front of her desk with a reader machine.

“You gonna to ask me more questions?”

“No.”

“What are you going to do with me?”

“What do you think I should do with you, Ms. Belivet?” she wonders and that question sounds very much like Carol.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’m an Outlier.”

She shakes her head.

“Your answers were very interesting. Do you frequently say one thing when you mean another?” I shiver. She takes the pages of my test and puts her gasper to it, before tossing it into the waste bin. “I imagine your blood test will come back fine.”

“Do Outlier’s blood show up different?”

“No. Not until the change.”

“The change?”

“Once the repressed memories surface.”

“Then, you don’t know.”

“No, I don’t know if you are an Outlier…yet. It’s a tricky business. Those police officers—if you can call them that—don’t understand how delicate a business this is. Uncovering an Outlier requires a certain…finesse. Most people don’t understand—it isn’t from a blood or a morality test that uncovers an Outlier.”

“What uncovers an Outlier?”

“Themselves.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m going to release you.”

Relief fills me, but only for a moment as my eyes meet hers and there is that same coldness.

“‘Kay…” I swallow, dampen my lips with my tongue again, but I have a terrible feeling about this.

“But you have to go under watch for a week.”

_Shit._

To the stripes.

I look at my hands, struggling to breathe.

“Are you going to fight?”

I shake my head.

“Good. It won’t do you any good at this point. Now, come along.” 

She leads me through the door, into a processing center of some kind and leaves me there without another word.

Two surly looking women strip me, take pictures of every mark on my body and drill me about them. Then, they put me in a white uniform and I’m put into a plexiglass cage with three other women.

The next week goes as expected. We’re fed meagerly at best, treated like animals, and not allowed to leave the clink at any point during our stay.

Beatings are expected, because I don’t think these people were trained by Carol. There are frequent blood samples, testing of whatever comes out of us, and skin and hair samples. Anything they can find that might indicate that we’re different. That we’re Outlier.

Some of the women in the cell are batty. None of us talk to each other. When I tried to make conversation the first day, one of the saner one’s snap at me to shut up before the crazier one begins to sing, “we’ll rat you out. We’ll rat you out if you give us reason too.”

So I don’t say a word after that, because apparently if you say just the wrong thing and others can rat an Outlier out then it can be their own ticket out. Sounds just the same as the lowerside. People can get treats from the bulls for outing someone for just about anything these days. A bull loves a good fight they say.

***  
I don’t know when or why, but one by one we are dragged out of the cell on various days and times. You never know when they’ll come. My time arrives and I’m thrown into a truck and taken out like garbage on the lowerside.

For long moments, I sit in the cool rain of a gutter. Struggling to gather my thoughts, I gather myself up to move and maybe figure out where I am. Looking around, I don’t know where I’m at. I could be anywhere. The neighborhood is huge and I’ve not been to every nook and cranny.

Fighting, I try to stand, stagger and collapse on the stones beneath me. I hear a noise, men talking and laughing and my threat meter rises, so I start dragging myself hand over fist to some trash, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything, but the pile and I cringe under the papers and the foul smelling forgotten bit of world.

Gasping for air and trying not to smell, the men pass and I find that I’m not sure that I want to move again. Whatever’s happened to me has taken too much out of me. The beatings, the lack of food and water, the lack of dope and phanta, and the fact that Carol wasn’t going to save me. That she didn’t really care even a clam for me and she’d let me be thrown away like a piece of shit.

I sink into the pile and pray for a quicker death than I deserve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hanger...still practicing with these as I've historically not been very good about using them.
> 
> Also a mini-announcement and reminder that though I write about complex and dark subjects I always end up in a happy, fluffy place. Grant it since this is a noir there's going to be a lot more dark then fluffy, but hopefully that will make the fluffy parts even more fluffier.


	5. What Hell Awaits

“Hey,” a voice whispers to me. “Therez?” I blink my eyes open, feeling sick and weak. Then, the woman in front of me comes into clarity and I slam myself back into the steel trashcan. “Easy. I’m not going to hurt you. Carol sent me.”

“Leave me the fuck alone, Abby,” I growl, fighting her hands but I have to give up quick. My breath labors, squeezing my lungs like a vice.

“I’m not going to give you bad drugs. I’m a doctor. I can’t legally injure you or worsen your condition.”

“Not like anyone cares down here,” I grumble.

“I care, I took an oath. Now, come on.” She motions to her vehicle. A black sleek thing that shouldn’t even be down here.

“Can’t walk.” 

She presses a water ball pass my lips and it pops, spreading deliciously through me. Then, she slips an arm under mine and drags me to her vehicle. She struggles to get my limbs in and I whimper once I’m there. She crawls in beside me, locking the door.

“Anything that needs to be taken care of now?” She pulls at a particularly bloody spot on my shirt. A wad of rags have stopped the bleeding of a shaft pressed in by one of the crazies. “Shit.”

She gives me a shot of something.

“Can’t afford—”

“Shut up.” She forces the padding away and I hiss as fresh blood pushes pass the skin. “It’s infected.” She pats something on it, digs around, sending me writhing. “Hold still.” Then, she wraps it tightly.

She finds a few more cuts and scraps, she insists on treating and fussing over the old scarring, before we’re flying out of lowerside. We arrive to Carol’s garage and suddenly, she’s there in her black suit and slicked back hair. I jerk away from her touch.

“Don’t touch—Don’t touch m-me!”

“Shhh,” she says in her familiar low voice. “Therez.” She pulls me closer and lifts me up into her arms, cradling me. “Come on, Abby.”

“I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all,” Abby mutters. “You’re going to get us all killed, you know? Tell me you know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t. I never did. But you’re in it now,” Carol says in a sad voice. “I took care of it. I took care of it all. No one will be the wiser.” We arrive to the apartment and she places me on the bed she had fucked me in so many times. The bed I had started to think she had made love to me in, but that was a lie. A lie, I’d made up, because I wanted it so bad. I swallow in a suddenly parched throat. “I’ve sterilized it…in case.”

“Let me feel her abdomen again, I think there is some internal bleeding.” She presses against my stomach and I groan. “What the hell happened to her, with this scarring?”

“Outlier torture.”

“Damn it.”

“Surgery?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” I growl again and Carol touches my arm to quiet me.

“Give her a shot of something,” Carol commands.

***  
I wake up later, with an IV bag running to the wall. Carol sits in a chair by the window. Light pouring in through bars across her and the bed. Her gasper lights red on the tip and smoke filters out. I hate the relief I feel on seeing her.

“Carol.”

She looks over at me, rising to her feet. I can hear the stockings on the floor. She’s redressed in a softer green blouse, knitted wool skirt as she sits down, sinking into the soft bed. Her hair has been freed from the bindings and looks fuller.

“Therese.”

“Fuck you,” I say, hating the tears that roll down my cheeks as I push myself up into a sitting position. She doesn’t try to help. 

“Perhaps, I deserve that.” Her eyes are different, not cold, but distant, more distant than they’ve ever looked at me.

“Three days? Did you decide if I was worth it or not? Street scum, potential Outlier that I am or was this a fucking test too?”

“What do you want me to say?” she asks and that hurts worse than anything. “I came.” She looks away, puffing on her gasper again.

“You sent Abby.” This is through gritted teeth.

“Abby’s a doctor. And doesn’t have any official connection to me,” she says, eyes not meeting mine now. “She’s the only one I could trust.”

“You trust her?”

“She is my friend, Therese.”

I rub my face.

“You left me.”

“And that’s the ringer, isn’t it?” Carol says with a sigh. “Is it over then?”

“Is it? I don’t have a job…my sax.”

“I have it. I kept it. You can have it back, Therese.”

My heart comes alive.

“You play beautifully. It would be a shame for you two to be separated.” She reaches down and places the battered and busted case next to me. My hands wrap around it as I pull it to my chest, pressing my cheek against the cool metal latches.

“Thank you,” I breathe.

“What can I say, Therese? It is the least I can do, I suppose.”

I sniff, another tear rolling down my cheek.

“Is this an apology?” I whisper.

“No. It’s a goodbye.”

“Why? Because I’m not an Outlier?”

“I don’t know if you are one or not.”

“You don’t like me?”

“No…What would be easier for you to believe? That I don’t like you or that I do and I must send you away because of it,” she asks. She reaches out to stroke my face. I shut my eyes, leaning in toward the knuckle on my face. “Would you like me to touch you again?”

“No,” I say, but she leans in and kisses me softly. My chest shrinks and closes in and the kiss tastes of tears.

“I can’t keep you safe, darling. I can’t protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection,” I growl. Her fingers stroke my face and grip my chin.

“Oh bunny,” she murmurs.

“You’re not allowed to call me that anymore,” I say and lift my chin away from her fingers, pulling away. “I’m not your bunny anymore.” Another tear leaks down my cheek.

“Therese.”

“No, I don’t care. I don’t.”

“It’s okay to feel things.”

“Not when you don’t.”

“Oh Therese.” Something in her voice hints at more, but with a sigh it’s gone. “Get your things together.”

“And die? I don’t have any clams, I don’t have a fucking job, and the bulls are on me.”

“I can give you money,” she says. “You can go someplace else.”

“There won’t be you. I always knew you’d be the end of me, Carol,” I tell her as I move my feet to the end of the bed, and pull out the IV on my own.

“You should have let me do that,” she chastises, offering a cotton ball and bandage.

“I’m fine. I’m always fine.” As I doctor myself up, at least this I know how to do.

My glams are shaky when I stand, grabbing Betsy. 

“Abby has food ready for you and a final check up.”

“Do you expect me to say thank you?”

“Not to me, but to her, yes. She risked her neck for you.”

“For you, not me.”

“Fine.”

Inside the kitchen, Abby is sitting and smoking one of Carol’s gaspers next to bowls of ramen noodle on the table.

“She awakes. I knew you were a tough cookie,” she says, tilting her head as she examines me.

“Fuck you.”

She chuckles at that.

“Eat.” She waves toward the food and I sit down to eat as if I haven’t eaten in decades. The food washes through me, warms me up, and there’s the offer of Huangju to warm my bones.

“That a’girl,” Carol purrs, smoking again too.

I finish eating, stand and look at Abby.

“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling incrementally better. “You saved my life and you didn’t have to.” Abby’s eyes flick to Carol. I turn to face her, but her eyes are hooded and dark. Mysterious as always.

“She owed me one,” Carol says, jutting out her chin. “You can go home, Abby, after you check her over one last time.”

Abby stands and her hands go to my shirt, but she doesn’t lift it.

“May I?” she asks quietly. The question surprises me. No one asks, except sometimes Carol. My eyes go to hers. Then, I nod when I see the concern filter in and the touch of pity I so hate.

All that’s left of the surgery scar is pink as she presses against it gingerly and the shaft wound is healed too. I didn’t even know that was possible.

“How did you do that?” I ask her.

“Basic wound care,” she says casually. “You don’t have access to medical care, do you?” I shake my head and she bites her lip. “Fuck it.” She reaches into her bag. “Don’t close a dirty wound. It will just get infected and abscess. Use this to clean it first. Then, you close it. It’s all I can give you without basic knowledge.”

“You gave me bad phanta. Why should I trust you?”

“Because I saved your life and I’m a doctor. The phantasmagoria had nothing to do with you being poor or lowerside…” Her eyes move to Carol again. “Carol and I use to be together, three years ago…I got jealous. It wasn’t going to hurt you and I gave her the antidote to make you better immediately. It was to make you uncomfortable. That’s it.”

“Can you give me the cure?” I ask. “For phanta.”

“They keep that under lock and key. More than these little gadgets. The cure can’t get out or a multi-trillion dollar industry will collapse and we all know what happens then.”

“Recession,” I say. Everyone knows that.

“Riots, looting…” Abby murmurs.

“It’s already starting,” Carol says with a frown. “We don’t even need a collapse.”

“People are angry. They’re always angry,” I say. “But it’s always worse during December and August.”

“Food’s supply has dropped again on the lowerside, bunny,” Carol says. “Damn it.” Her fist slams down on the counter.

“Everything’s down. And I’m not your bunny anymore.”

“Bunny?” Abby asks with an amused smile. “Really, Carol?”

“Shut up, Abby. Is she clear or not?”

“She’s clear. Do these scars hurt?” She motions toward the deeper ones, the old ones.

“Yes, sometimes. I don’t know the difference between the scarring and the phanta anymore.”

“Then, I can’t help. Not really. Not until we find out what caused them or get the cure.”

“On a cold night in hell, am I right?” I finally tease and Abby actually smiles again at me.

“Abby leave first,” Carol commands. “We’ll leave in twenty minutes…unless you change your mind.”

“I don’t want to hear about that. Good luck, kid,” Abby says, squeezing my shoulder. “I hope I don’t see you again. It’ll probably be safer that way, right?” She walks out of the apartment.

Carol follows me to the window in the living room. One last look into the world from this angle.

“What did you mean that you knew I’d be the end of you?” Carol asks me, sitting on the couch. 

“What do you think?”

“You’ve got things to live for, Therese. Not just some old detective.”

“You’re not old,” I say and she snorts.

“You’ve got your music.”

“No one cares down there. It doesn’t matter. Have you ever been down there longer than a day?”

“If I could, Therese—”

“Don’t. Don’t put dreams in my head.”

“…There’s nothing I can do. No where we can go that you will be safe. You’ll die for selfish reasons.”

“Aren’t those better than no reason at all?”

“You don’t know that, Therese. This time it would have been for no reason. But next time? You don’t know…you just don’t know everything, believe it or not.”

“And you do?” I demand. “You’re just going to let this go.”

“Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t this easier?”

“Easier?” I let out a cynical laugh. “For you, maybe. You can go back to your stupid fucking life, chasing Outliers and pretending you’re a badass bull. Enjoy your damn park and your fucking flying cars and doctors…” My hands become fists.

“I don’t pretend to be a bad ass bull, Therese. I am one and I never mix work and play.”

“But you did.”

“It happened and now, look where we are. I don’t want to kill you next time, but I will have to.”

“Because I am an Outlier?”

“Because you are a stupid, naive little girl who doesn’t understand the fucking world.”

“Right. Well, you keep doing what’re doing, bull. I’m sure it’ll all work out,” I growl at her. “You’ll find the one and he’ll be some rich upperside man, handsome as hell and he’ll make you happy. You’ll finally have a prince to go with your fucking castle and you’ll have a million fucking little kids that look like him.”

She pulls out a gasper and lights it. Her eyes are chilly. Crossing my arms, I stare out into the world and swallow.

“Damn it, Therese,” Carol says. “You want resolutions because you’re young. But you will understand this one day. Now, it’s time to go. This could have been much more pleasant.” She flicks the ashes on her carpet and walks to the door. “After you.”

She grabs me again at the door, slams me against the wall, and takes another kiss. Shutting my eyes, I feel the tear roll down my cheek as I kiss her back. I don’t want to, but it’s Carol and if it’s the last one I will take it, even if I don’t want to, because it’s Carol and she’s the finest dope there is.

Her breath comes heavily near my ear. My name is on her lips again, but that’s all that there—desire. I turn my head, refusing to look at her again. There’s nothing there, but the want and that’s nothing I can keep. That’s not enough to make her really want me, to care about me.

“Just throw me away again, Carol. It’s what everyone does,” I say and walk out the door. 

The car ride back to the Main Street Cafe is quiet. 

“Therese.”

“Good luck with everything.”

I step out of the car and leave her. The breezer takes off and vanishes into the fog, taking Carol with it.

Stopping by the Nifty Owl, I see if I can talk Mrs. Grumfire into letting me keep my job. She looks up from her main office when I get to the door.

“Damn, it was bad, wasn’t it?” she asks me. “You can’t come into work like that.”

“Can I come in afterwards? After the bruises and swelling go down.”

“No, you should get out of town with the marks you have on your record. That’s your best bet.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” she says with a shrug. “If I cared, I’d give you your job back. It’s not like you did anything wrong, but I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because the bulls see things like that and they’ll start messing with the business. It’s against the law to hire potential Outliers. Now scat.”

“You want the clothes back?”

“Keep them, maybe you’ll get another upperside job and make it.”

I nod and leave the bar. With Carol’s clams I purchase a ticket down to the lowerside on the lifts. Phil catches my arm when I scoot off and hugs me tightly, grabbing my face.

“What happened, doll face? You look terrible.”

“I got caught by the bulls during the riot.”

“That was weeks ago.”

I sniff.

“They turned me in with an Outlier detective and put me in the clink.” 

His hands shoot off my face.

“I’m not though, Phil. They released me. I went back up to see if I had a job…maybe, I can get that packaging job you were talking about?”

He shakes his head.

“Not with that on your record, Therese. You know that.” He grabs me into a tight hug. “It ain’t right, ya see. You got to get home. I’ll come visit, okay? When my shift’s over and we can make plans.”

I shake my head.

“There’s only one thing I can do.”

“Don’t go, Therese. Don’t leave before I come visit you. We can figure something out.”

“You’re a nice guy, Phil, but I can’t stay.”

“I’ll be by tonight. Promise, you won’t go.” 

I nod and ankle it on out of there, because everything hurts. The worst thing about making friends and a life, is that you always have to run away from it in the end.

My room feels like a clink tonight. It feels empty without Carol, but right along with that beautiful sultry image is the bull detective, hair slicked back and eyes as cold as ice. A woman capable of anything, of killing her little bunny.

I change out of the stuff from Carol’s into lowerside gear and slide Betsy under the cot. Before I collapse. I rest there, feeling every ache and pain of the last few days, but not nearly all of it, because of Abby and I can’t bring myself to curse her again or to curse Carol.

I only wish that I had gotten another kiss.

****  
Phil arrives later, sitting down opposite of me on the cot. He looks at me hesitantly.

“How did you get out of the clink?” he asks. I frown, because I don’t think there are answers for these things. Not any that will make sense.

“Look, I don’t know. They just let me go after awhile. I think it’s because I’m not an Outlier.”

“You think?”

“They did everything to find out. They took blood, checked every body fluid, you can imagine…watched me day and night and beat the truth and the lies out of me. They released me because they couldn’t find anything.”

“Then, you aren’t an Outlier,” he says, sounding more sure. “I always knew you were a bit different, but you’re not…you’re not unbalanced. Wish they would’ve asked me, I would’ve set ‘em straight for you, doll face.” He pats my knee. “So what are we going to do?”

“What do you mean what are we going to do?” I ask him. 

“Well, I’d like it if you didn’t go,” he says. His hand moves to my hand. “I kind of like havin’ you around. So does Dannie.”

“Phil, you know we’re friends, right?” I ask him. His dark eyes move to mine.

“Of course,” he says and laughs. “You got a fella? Up top?”

“No.”

“Did he dump you? You just look sad.”

“Because I have to leave, Phil.”

“No, you don’t. We can figure this out. We could get married, yea? That’ll help.”

“Phil, we can’t.” I rip my hand away from his. He looks hurt. “We’re friends, okay?”

“After all those times I let you up? Giving me those kisses, flirting with me?”

“We’re friends.”

“Is that all?”

“Good friends?” I ask him and finally he laughs at me.

“Fine, we’re just good friends then,” he says and shakes his head. “Such a shame. I think we could’ve been something good, yea?”

“I’m sure, but I’m not looking, Phil. I just hurt people. I’d hurt you real bad if we got together. I get into these situations and I don’t want to hurt you, Phil. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know…I know, but you won’t.”

“I will. Don’t be a—” I almost call him a bunny. Maybe, Carol is right. Maybe, it’s better this way. Cut people clean and let them go.

“When are you leaving?” he asks. “Come by the movies again this Friday. Let Bennie see ya one more time. Yea?”

I smile at him and nod.

“Okay, a few days won’t hurt anything,” I reply. “I’ve got enough clams to make it by and purchase a ticket out.”

“Train?”

I nod again.

“You sure you ain’t sad? You look sad. Did someone break your heart?”

“I don’t have a heart to break.”

“I don’t believe that. Not for one moment. You pretend like you’re this tough-hearted dame, a grifter, but you’s not. I know you, Terri.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I reply stiffly.

He smiles at me as if he’s caught me out.

“It was a someone all right, not a guy though.” He taps his nose and his eyes narrow. “We like certain people. And we don’t like others. You don’t know why you’re attracted to some people and not to others.. You just are.” His smile is sad now. He reaches up to stroke my hair as he leans closer. “I hope she was pretty, Therese.” His eyes are warm and sad as he looks over me. “I hope she was worth it.”

“You should go.”

“Okay. Friday, though, yea?”

“‘Kay. I’ll be there.”

He gets to the door.

“Phil,” I say.

“Yea, sweet heart?” He turns around to look at me.

“Thanks.” Thanks for not freaking out about my kink. Thanks for still seeing me as a human being even though I’m a potential Outlier. Thanks for being a true friend.

The world doesn’t have friends when anyone can be an Outlier and you’re just a vagrant, a vagabond and an easy target. No one is worth skin when they aren’t yours.

“She ain’t worth your time if she don’t see your value, Terri. You know that, right?”

And then, he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark times ahead, but don't worry our ladies won't be apart for long! 
> 
> I wanted to warn you I'll be traveling to Croatia Wednesday, so I'll only be able to post sporadically next week. Hopefully I won't drop a cliffhanger or something on you in the meantime.
> 
> Enjoy!!


	6. Richard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic Violence
> 
> We're definitely in the rated R for graphic violence section and we have some character deaths. Please note that it is neither Carol nor Therese and I hope the ending of this chapter makes it all worth it.

Friday comes slow. Each day, rainier than the next. The stones of the street muddy as I scoot my way through it in a jacket Carol gave me. A black trench too nice for this area, but it’s too mucky to go without something. People are looking at me like I’m a high-roller, so I tuck up the collar and move a little faster.

The projector is already running when I arrive to the top room of the cine—which is weird. It’s five minutes too early. The people are still seating and fussing about it. I trot up the stairs and wonder what’s got Dannie in a rush.

It’s dark and the projector is running by itself. There’s something dark around it, splattered on the little grimy window. When I get closer, I reach out and touch the inky stuff on the projector. When my fingers comes back shaking, it’s red—not black.

Looking around, I try to find the source. First, I spot Bennie. Jaw slacked and opened, pinned to the wall with three railroad stakes embedded into him. I gasp, hit the opposite wall and upchuck hard.

“Therese…Belivet,” comes a low, angry voice. A tall man looms in the dark, dragging something forward, lugging it forward with each step.

_No._

“Richard?” My breath comes harder, my heart races and I don’t want to see what’s in his hand, hanging limply.

He drops Phil into the light of the projector. Rolling toward me, his mouth falls open. His face red and purple from the abuse Richard has crushed into him. I gasp, because he’s still alive, still breathing.

“It hasn’t been that long, Terri,” Richard says with a chuckle. “You see, I’ve watched and watched, but you never pick up men, but then this ass went to your apartment. I couldn’t bear it. Terri, you’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

“No, Richard. Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt anyone else,” I gasp as he leans down, straddling Phil. I charge at him and beat at his thick arms, but his thumbs find Richard’s eyes and…I look away. I can’t bear it as I hear the horrid squish.

Flinging myself away, I stagger and upchuck violently again, dragging myself away from what’s just happened.

“You can’t do this, Richard. You can’t have me.” He rises to his feet, hands and shirt bloody.

“Because I’m Outlier. You loved me once.”

“No. I never did, Richard.” I shake my head.“I’ve never loved anyone.”

“You loved this man.” He motions to the body at his feet.

“No, I didn’t. He was my friend!” I yell.

“You love someone and it isn’t me.”

He begins to walk toward me. I stagger up and run down the stairs. Barreling toward my room, I hope the doors can hold him back. I pop the lock, slam it behind me and keep running to my room in a blind panic.

I slam the door behind me, looking down at myself. My black trench caught the blood. It’s not noticeable. Grabbing my rucksack, I throw my clothes and drugs into it. 

Then, I’m out again, exiting from a different door—closer to the train station. I turn a corner and someone grabs me.

“Therese…it’s too late to run. I’ve been very patient. I gave you space, but now, now…it’s time.” Richard strokes my face and I try to pull away, pushing at him.

“Don’t. Richard, no, please. Let me go, please.”

“But you’re mine.”

“I’m not. No, please. Damn it, Richard!”

“Come along, Terri, before I lose my patience,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ve waited a long time to play with you again.” He reaches up to stroke my hair. He drags me down the alleyway and just like before there is no way to break from his powerful grip. If I don’t keep moving, he’ll drag me.

He takes me back to my room, throwing me onto my cot. It’s sickening that he knows exactly where it is. How many times was he here when I was gone? That he was just outside my door and I didn’t know it? He grins down at me hungrily and starts kissing me.

“No, no! Richard, please,” I beg. I hope this isn’t the time he will actually try to do something. I never want to experience the sort of pain he gave me again, but I don’t ever want to have sex with this man either. I don’t want to be touched by him at all.

He pulls back. I start to get up, but he slams me down, ripping open my shirt as if it is nothing but paper. I gasp as he flips me over, fingers trailing the deep scarring on my back with his thick fingers.

“No,” I say, biting at my arm to keep from whimpering, feeling the hot tears. “Please. Let me go.” His fingers dig in again and I gasp in pain. He delighted in this before. The teasing, the pain, and I know he will do it again and again. Nothing will every truly stop it.

***  
“Therese!” I snap awake, dully. My body is pressed heavily down to the cot. Leather belts, a makeshift tool, bind me down. At some point, I had passed out from Richard’s chemical dousing and kniving work he does to create the scarring. His personal art work on my back.

“Do you have another friend, Terri?” Richard whispers, stroking my face. “Someone else to play with?” I try to rip away as someone beats on the door. He’s always considered himself an artist.

The pounding increases. Suddenly, the door snaps open, wood splintering, and a woman in a black suit and mink coat walks in, hair tied back and blue eyes blazing.

“Help me…Carol,” I gasp. Her eyes fall on me and they widen for just a moment, before narrowing and flicking to Richard.

“It was you,” she growls in a low a voice. “I will fucking kill you, Outlier scum.” He laughs at her.

“You think I’m scared of you,” he demands. “You know how many Outlier bulls I’ve killed? You’re just another meatbag.” He waggles his grotesque fingers covered in my blood at her.

“Run, run…” I beg, jerking at the belts. My eyes widening, when I realize that I don’t want her to die because of me. Because I brought this beast here in her district and led her to this place. I can’t bear to watch another person I care for die.

Carol moves, so fast she’s a blur of brown and blonde. Richard is still bent over me when he turns and they slam into the wall. I flinch hearing the concrete buckle under his weight and crumble. Carol has his neck gripped in a vice, crimson nails biting into his throat. Her face a snarled mess of the panther she truly is under all those pretty clothes.

He pounds his fists into her and I’m stunned when she stands there, taking it all, glaring at him as her fingers tighten. His hands desperately search for anything, grabs my heavy hotplate and slams it into her face.

She falls over me. Her perfume rolls over me, exotic and rich as ever—even in this terrifying moment. Her breathing comes fast, in and out, and her eyes flash angrily over me. I flinch away as blood drops down from along her temple. Her hand shakily reaches out, but Richard grabs her coat, rips it in half as she slams a fist into his face and he staggers two steps back.

The coat slides off her, revealing the Outlier detective underneath. She punches again and their fists collide. Something snaps and Richard slides to his knees, face wracked in pain. A quick pop of her foot against his skull and he collapses to the ground, motionless.

Spinning toward me, she cuts the belts with a knife she pulls from her hip. Heavy pistols tucked under her arms in a shoulder sling. She sits me up.

“You have to get out of here. I thought…I thought, you did it…,” Carol says, still panting. “They’ll still blame you.”

“I didn’t do it,” I say, voice trembling. “I didn’t…” Tears run down my cheeks.

“I know, darling. I know that now,” she says in that warm voice and she strokes my face. The sobs wrack through me.

She draws me against her and that touch shatters everything inside of me. Grabbing my trench, she carefully wraps it around me and she lifts me up into her arms. She goes to carry me out of my apartment, scooping up my bag and sax, and stepping over the body of the beast.

“There’s no where I can go…” I whimper against her. “I’m so sorry. I was leaving, but he killed my friends. He thought we were more.” I’m gasping against her. “He’s obsessed…”

Outside the rain has picked up and her black car is nearby.

“Do you hate me, Therese?” she asks. I look at her and all I see is just Carol.

“Don’t say that,” I whisper. She sets me down on my feet, tightening the sash on my trench. When a roar erupts behind her, she throws her arms around me.

The full force of Richard drives into her back against the car. Her hands on either side of me, she arches her back as metal squeals and bends underneath the force of these two. Her teeth grit, a vein pops out on her forehead and all the muscles in her face twist in a horrible parody of Carol’s beauty as she forcibly holds her position against such a diabolical creature.

Richard runs out strength first.

“I love you,” she breathes, before she pulls her hands free of gnarled metal and she twists and slams a fist into the monster of man behind her. He laughs at her, staggering as blood runs down his face.

“An Outlier that’s an Outlier detective,” he snaps and clicks his teeth hungrily at her. “You think it matters? I will fucking kill you. I’ve killed enough Outliers too. Just like you, bitch.” A punch, elbow and another punch sends him stumping farther away from me.

He charges her. Another blur and she grabs his wrist, twists and he’s bawling in pain as she crushes it like she did Harge’s—with a pressure point, but I wonder now, if it’s not her own raw animalistic strength. Eyes blazing again, she twists his arm completely back and he howls as she wrenches it from the socket. Then, pulls out a gun, pommel thick in her hand, and raises it to the back of his head. She presses it into his sweaty skull. Blood streaming down his face into his teeth as he glares at me savagely, still longing to devour me.

I turn away as the loud shot rings out in the lonely alley. Richard slumps to the ground. I can’t open my eyes. I can’t see more death, not like this.

“Therese,” Carol whispers. “Therese, please. Look at me.” Slowly, I open my eyes and see her black shoes and the blood pooled in the rain water. Her impossibly long glams lead me to her suit and then her hair, freed from its cage. And those blue eyes, never soft, but sometimes caring. “Are you frightened of me?”

I shake my head and flee into her. She gasps, gently wrapping her arms around me. I sob against her.

“We have to go, Therese. I have to file a report about this and I have to get you some place safe.”

“What’s changed?” I say in a quiet voice. “Why?”

She strokes my face, gripping it.

“You’ve seen me…I couldn’t protect you from this. I thought I could…but I’m this thing…this monster.” I shake my head, reaching up to pull her lips down to mine and the fire is still there. This time, I’m dominating the kiss against her slacked lips. “How can you? How can you?” she demands between kisses.

“It doesn’t matter, Carol,” I tell her. “I saw you and I knew. You were the one. You can throw me away, but I’ll always love you.” I sob again and she pulls me tight against her.

Into my throat she whispers, “I’ll never let you go again, Bunny.”

I shutter against her, feeling truly safe for the first time in my life. 

“Come along, we can’t take the car,”she says and leads me away from the building. It’s literally smoking from where Richard pressed her into it. The engine completely trashed from a quick glance into the circular holes were Carol’s hands and arms had pressed into it. Her hands are bloody and raw from the impact, but already the blood has stopped flowing.

“You can’t be seen with me like this,” I reply, staggering against her. Her arm nearly carrying all of my weight.

She stops, turns around, and pulls off the hulking jacket from Richard’s corpse and slides it on herself.

“It’s fine, come along,” she says and we walk quickly toward the lifts.

“What are you going to tell them?”

“Who?”

“The bulls.”

“Oh that…you saw what he did to the car. I’ll say it isn’t drivable. It isn’t. Not in that condition, too dangerous.”

“And me?”

“You took the train out of dodge and he was following you. It’s the truth. You were heading out anyway.”

“I was in the theater, but he-he killed them. He killed my friends, Carol.”

“Hush, I know. I’ll have to check the frames and see if it’s enough evidence for you to be considered as a possible suspect, but it’s not like he won’t be there. It’ll be okay, Therese. I’ll get you out.”

“But…”

“We’ll leave together. I’ll figure it out,” she says and kisses the top of my head. “Now, quiet, we’re going in.”

We step into the rush of humanity. I duck my head down, leaning into Carol. I’m sure it looks like I’m drunk. It’s an eternity before we reach the lifts and Carol pays for us both. They breathilize me to check my alcohol levels.

“What’s wrong with her?” the lift manager demands, eyeing me.

“She’s tired. Look, she’s fine,” Carol says, pushing me on my feet. “She’s my niece.” I look up at him and try to give him a smile. He nods his head and motions for us to continue.

We pass by a walking camera the moment we scoot out of the lift. Carol had thankfully already pushed my head down into her shoulder. From there Carol calls a cab. It lands next to us and we slide in the back.

She gives him more clams than I’ve ever seen in my life and he quickly clicks a few things.

“Critical Malfunction. Restart system,” the cab’s computer system declares shrilly, before he smacks it a few times and it stops repeating itself. It goes dark in the back where we are sitting. Then, she tells him her address.

“No, I can’t. I don’t know what happened. The camera and mic seem to be malfunctioning,” he says, pressing buttons, but nothing happens. “Seems to have deleted your entrance. You’ll have to step out of the cab. I need to go for maintenance.”

Then, the cab lifts off and he takes us to Carol’s place. I’m still crying a little when we arrive, tiny sobs that cause her to tighten her grip around me. Then, we’re in her apartment and she scoops me up again, quickly carrying me to the powder room.

She rips out of Richard’s jacket, dropping it on the floor and kicks it away.

“Carol.”

She comes to me, kissing me passionately. The sobs hit me harder, breaking our kiss.

“Darling…is it me?” Her eyes shattered like glass.

I shake my head.

“How can it not be me? I’m this thing…the thing you were so afraid of…the thing that hurt you so terribly.” She swallows and there’s pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop.” I grab her face, feel the pull in her to comfort me. She smells of Carol now without Richard’s jacket on. That strong powerful scent that is only hers and always pleasant, but powerful. “You’re Carol. You’re just Carol to me. Always.”

“Come on, Bunny. He hurt you. Let me help. I’ll call Abby.”

“Don’t…you can’t fix this. She can’t fix this.”

“Hot or cold water?”

“Cold,” I say.

“I can tell what it is from the smell, from the touch…I’m a detective. Let me see,” she says, turning on the water as I sink down onto the side of the tub. “She can fix you. I can acquire the cure.”

“Carol…why? What’s changed? It can’t be because—I’m still me—I haven’t changed. I’m a penniless grifter.”

“Darling…I sent you away, because…not because of that…because I couldn’t save you without forfeiting my position. I would have been open to Outlier accusations. If they had looked hard enough, they would have found out what I am. And I thought your life would be much worse with me in it.”

“You can still hide it…you can. I can still leave and no one will be the wiser, Carol.”

“No. I can’t. Not after…I was selfish, thinking I could keep us both safe this way. But you will be the one who will suffer when you leave. This Outlier business will only grow worse for you and how can I send you to the next district to worse accusations? They will take pictures of your apartment…and they will know that there were two Outliers there. They will make the assumption that you were the second one. When you leave—that will follow you, while I sit in my safe office and my nice apartment while you live in squalor and filth, running for your life. What kind of monster would I be then, Therese?”

Now, there is a tear rolling down her cheek.

“You are not a monster, Carol.”

“I can hide you,” she says. “I know a way. We can leave this all behind and you can come with me.” She stops the water in the tub, moving towards me. “May I?”

My hands grip my trench tightly as I shake. I look into her blue eyes, always a hint of an edge there. Carol isn’t safe. She was never safe, but does that matter? Did it ever matter?

“‘Kay,” I breathe and open the trench for her, giving her access to my body. Her eyes drift down to the blood that’s run down my shoulder, smeared by the coat, and down my breast.

She pushes the trench off me as gently as she can, sliding it from under my bottom and it falls to the floor in a messy heap. Carefully, she lifts me up again onto the john, so she can position me so she can see my back. 

I see it in the mirror and it looks bad. As bad as the first time. I shut my eyes at the deep weeping wounds, blood raining down my back thickly, some already dried.

“Oh darling…”

It burns, digging into me and I let out a tiny whimper.

Her finger grazes a wound and I gasp, watching over my fists as she smells the chemicals and blood. Then, she puts it in her mouth.

“Carol, don’t!” I gasp, spinning to her. I slip on the blood, now all over the tiled floor and john, and she catches me.

“It’s okay…” she says, gripping my shoulder. “It won’t hurt me. I’m…I’m an Outlier, darling. Few things hurt me.” She rises to her feet, hand threading through my hair. She pulls her phone from her pant’s pocket. “Abby, can water help with a chemical burn…” She spouts a few strange sounding words that I don’t follow. “Right. Okay. Yes, it’s her. No, I wasn’t planning on this. Fine.”

She hangs up. 

“Let me clean you up by the sink first.” She picks me up again and places me on the counter. I turn my back to her, pulling my knees up to my chest, despite the pull of it against my back.

She wraps a protective arm around me as she begins to wipe the area clean, changing the wash cloth frequently. I jerk and squirm, but her arm holds me tightly, but loose enough it doesn’t hurt me. Her body and warmth a constant, near me for comfort.

“Shhh,” she whispers. “Darling. I’m here.” After the cleaning, by the sink, she shifts me to the tub where she removes the rest of the grime, blood, and sweat from my body. She grabs a thick towel and wraps it around me, placing me on the john. Abby walks into the bathroom with a knock.

“What’s the status?” she asks. Carol looks up at her. “Shit Carol. Bad night?” 

“I forgot,” she admits. “It’s amazing, they let us onto the lift at all.” She touches her forehead, but the blood has dried. “She might be going into shock.”

Abby crosses to me, checking my eyes and pulse. She inserts an IV and gives me a shot of something.

“Let me apply something for your back, get you bandaged up, and we’ll get you more comfortable.”

She quickly does what she’s set out to do. For once my back pain starts to ease as I slump weakly against Carol.

“There’s too much nerve damage to aid with the old scarring at the moment, but with a treatment or two I should be able to resolve most of it without causing further damage now that we know what we’re dealing with. It won’t ever look pretty, but we can cut the pain down quite a bit.”

Her hands are confident as she works. I cling to Carol and she clings to me.

“I thought you two were done?” she asks Carol even though she’s looking at me.

“I thought so too,” I whisper and Abby’s eyes flicker to mine.

“Seeing her in the hands of the Outlier…it made me realize what was important. I’m tired, Abby. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending.”

“You have too. They can kill you both, put you in a psychiatric ward and then, you’ll look just like her when she got dumped off. If they even let you out…if they find out about you two, they’ll kill you.”

Carol snorts.

“Abby, dear…I have means. I can…there are ways, but we will have to leave.”

“And you’ll leave me? After everything, I’ve done for you?” Abby turns on her.

“You’ve always been a good friend. You know I can’t keep putting you in danger and as long as Therese and I are together we will be putting you in danger.”

She looks at me.

“You really must be something,” she says with a shake of her head. “It’s been seven days, Carol.”

“I cannot let this go,” Carol says. “Not her. She’s different.”

“She’s a potential Outlier, a grifter, and a thief,” Abby says and all those are true. I look at Carol, not denying a single thing.

“She’s my thief, my grifter, and if she’s an Outlier, well gods be damned, she’s my Outlier too.” Her eyes are wet with emotion.

“I’m not Abby,” I whisper, when her eyes get big and I touch her shoulder. “How could Richard take me so easily if I’m Outlier? Why would they release me?”

“We all know those tests are bogus,” Abby says, obviously frightened by the implications of someone in this room being an Outlier.

“They tested everything, Abby. Carol checked my moral responses,” I say, trying to ease her fear, knowing that we’re both standing next to a living breathing Outlier as we speak.

“She did terribly, but she’s baseline for lowerside,” Carol says and shakes her head. She has an unruly smile on her face. “Honestly, she’s baseline for a real person, not those terrible things they make us do in the name of morality. In the name of truth…damn this regime, damn the man who gets to pick and choose what’s right and what’s wrong. What’s fake and what’s truth, damn the party that destroys us piece by piece in the name of money and desire. To spread their hatred and lies.” She kisses me softly.

“Carol, don’t. She’s in shock. We can have a political conversation when she isn’t in shock,” Abby commands in her doctorly voice.

“Can I move her yet?” Carol murmurs.

“Carefully,” Abby says. Carol scoops me up and carries me to the couch, where she settles me down next to her.

“I’ll go get something more comfortable for her.” Abby goes upstairs and I take Carol’s face and bring her down for another kiss.

“Shh,” she says, kissing away my tears. Abby comes down with a set of pajama pants only. Carol helps me change, before wrapping me up in a hug that doesn’t touch my injuries and I rest against her with my feet up as Abby makes a meal for us. “I’m going to have to make my report soon.”

“Don’t go, yet…please,” I whisper. She kisses my temple.

“You are my special angel,” she murmurs against me. “I’ll find a way for us to coexist.”

“Carol…do all Outliers end up like Richard?” I whisper. She smiles gently and kisses my temple again.

“I’m a lot older than Richard, darling. I’d like to think if I haven’t gone insane by now then I will not. I told you once that those symptoms aren’t a way to tell if someone is an Outlier or not. Remember?”

“Then…why?”

She sighs.

“It happens a lot in the lowerside. A desperation and a sort of madness at the futility. It’s a combustible sort of concoction and awakens the madness in men, even Outliers. Overbreeding and poor education can do cruel things.”

“Have you met others…like you?”

“More than you can ever imagine. They live and breathe among us just like I do. Now, there’s not as many as regular people, but most of them are never discovered until someone notices they aren’t aging or they aren’t getting hurt or other things. Even in the repressed, there is an occasionally glitch.”

“But I’m not…I’m not an Outlier?”

“No, I don’t believe you are at this point. After everything I’ve observed, but there is a slight chance still. If you don’t age or age too slowly then there is a possibility you are one. It’s a peculiar thing.”

“How are there even Outliers who don’t know.”

“It’s complicated, Bunny,” she says with a sigh. “There are radical groups that are against the degradation of humanity. They believe the Outliers deserve their freedom to exist, not just as forced labor, so these groups create hidden Outliers, give them memories and drop them off into society. They do this in hopes that one day it will change the tide. That someone powerful will discover who they are or people will start seeing Outliers as friends or family…Sometimes, the discovery alone that they are Outliers makes them unstable…other times, one of us can find them. We follow their cases to ease them into the truth of what they are. To show them how to hide it.”

“You followed me because of that?”

“Not the only reason, but yes…Therese, part of me dreamed and longed for you to discover what you might be,” she whispers, hope in her voice. “So that we could live this truth together and I could walk you into everything you could become.”

“And now what? I’m just a boring jane?”

“No, my darling…you’re something entirely different. My angel,” she says, nuzzling my face. “You do understand that it no longer matters to me what you are. I’m never letting you go again. It was hard enough the first time, surviving without you. I realize now, it was an impossibility.” She kisses me hard.

“Carol. I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to. Just know that I love you and ’til my dying breath, I will fight to protect you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm leaving on a jet plane tomorrow so who knows when I can post again. Thankfully I will have plenty of time to write. Let me know what you think...I'm never opposed to adjusting some things as I go along unless it goes against the grain as Carol would say.


	7. Carol, More Than a Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite back from Croatia, but got stuck overnight somewhere on my way back, but it has wifi! So I'm posting the next chapter. Enjoy!!
> 
> Vacation was swell. If you love nature--Croatia has lot's of it. Very pretty, everyone is super nice, and so easy to get around. Great place.

I wake later, curled up with a soft blanket in my room and no Carol. Stirring around, I get up slowly wincing at the pull and pain of old hurts, but the new stuff doesn’t hurt. Abby’s done her magic again.

Opening the door, I’m dressed in the loaned pajama bottoms, rolled up, and the bandages covering me. I cross through the darkness to the top of the stairs.

“—that’s ridiculous,” Carol snarls over the phone, lit only by a blue grainy screen of a portable computer. “—I don’t care what the hell the corporal thinks. That’s my report and as for the suspicious activities in my office—I have never—that’s right. Making impetuous accusations. I am the best god-damn detective you have and he fucking knows it. I’ll walk out. There’s a dozen other districts that will take me. Fine. Just deal with it.” The screen goes dark and she rubs her face.

I sink down on the top stair, feeling as if the air has been knocked out of me. With Carol, it’s hard to know what’s real or not, I realize. She’s so good at her cover.

“Darling?” she says into the darkness. “Darling, did I wake you?” I try to move my mouth, to talk, but I can’t. She pushes aside her portable and crosses to the stairs. “Did I frighten you? Do…I frighten you?” 

She takes the steps slowly, bending low and sitting next to me, not touching me. I look up at her, still feeling the thump of my heart against my rib cage.

“I don’t care,” I murmur more to myself than her. “I need you.” I fall into her and she holds me, hand threading through my hair.

“Oh bunny,” she whispers, squeezing me. “I know it’s frightening. That I can be scary.” I shake against her, surprised by the return of my sobbing. “Shhh, I’m here. Tell me what you need. I’m here.”

“Hold me,” I say and she scoops me up, takes me back downstairs to the couch and wraps us both in a blanket. “I’m not scared, Carol…not of you.”

“You are…” She swallows and looks away. “It’s okay. I’ll prove to you that I’ll never hurt you.” She strokes my hair from my face. “My Therese.”

“There are questions I want to ask, but I’m not sure if you want me to ask them…”

She looks to me, brow tense, and I can’t get what’s going on behind those stormy eyes.

“Ask me anything.” Her throat bobs as she swallows and there is a hint of emotion swirling across her face, before she locks it down.

“Have you ever killed a human before?”

“Yes.” 

There is no apology in her words.

“Not on this job,” she presses on with a long sigh. “It was decades ago. During the rebellion…” The rebellion? That was, I don’t know how long ago it was, because it wasn’t during my lifetime and people only mention it passing. It was a long time ago and off world, like maybe even before my parent’s time.

“How old are you?”

She let’s out a short chuckle and strokes my nose with a wicked gleam about her.

“Didn’t I tell you, it’s rude to ask a lady her age?” she whispers into my ear and I squirm at her sultry tone. She kisses my temple. “Needless to say, I am much, much older than you. Age is an arbitrary number. If it makes you feel better, you will most likely die before me.”

I prop myself up on my elbow and glare down at her.

“It does not! How long do we have?”

“We may not even have tomorrow. Are you sure you want me to fill your precious little head full of dreams, bunny?” she says, nonplussed. I sink back down on top of her as her fingers stroke circles anywhere she can find that’s not covered in bandages.

“Were you a repressed or were you created for a purpose?” I ask and I know that’s a scary question. Her eyes snap to mine and narrow. I start to pull away, but she grips my elbows tightly. 

“No, it’s okay,” she soothes, but her voice is hard. “I haven’t thought about that in a very long time…are you sure you want to know _that_ about me, Therese? It’s not a pleasant history.”

“I want to know everything, but if you don’t want to tell me…you don’t have too. You must know that…that bad stuff has happened to me too,” I say. “You haven’t asked about it…maybe, I shouldn’t ask you.” My eyes drop away, but she touches my cheek.

“Because I see it written on your skin, darling,” she whispers. “I’ll ask one day if you don’t tell me, promise. But I’ll ask when you are ready to tell me.” My eyes flutter up to her and I swallow. “I wasn’t repressed, before the rebellion there weren’t repressed models.”

“Models?”

“That’s what Outliers are or use to be, before things got so muddled. We were created, designed to be outsourced labor. It was cheaper than paying someone the money to leave world and transport them when you could set up shop, incubate and grow your own army of workers to make them work for free. You could design them anyway you wanted: make them breathe carbon dioxide, withstand massive amounts of gravity or radiation or any imaginable chemical.”

Her eyes are far away. I reach out and touch her cheek.

“And you? Was that you, Carol?”

She shakes her head.

“There were other models. Some were soldiers, originally meant to protect against deadly forces, competing franchises, and even to be used on earth.”

“Now, that has to be you,” I say, lips twisting a bit. “You’re so strong and you can fight…” She shakes her head, lips tightening, and she frowns. “No?” She shakes her head again.

“I’m sorry, Therese,” she whispers. “I was a different model. The sensual unit.”

“They used you for sex?” I demand shocked.

She nods and a hint of pink creeps into her cheeks.

My lips and chin begin to shake, tears begin to fall again as she reaches up to wipe them away.

“I understand…if that disgusts you and you don’t want to be with me again. That I’ve been used and soiled. I’ll always be here to protect you though,” she says. “I promise.” I shake my head.

“No, Carol,” I breathe. “It’s not that…”

“It isn’t?”

“No. I’m sad for you. That you were forced into that. That for a period of time—I don’t know for how long—that you were forced and believed that was all you were good for. That _that_ was your purpose in life. I think I’d rebel and kill those assholes too.”

She looks away from me, eyes watery in the beams of light from the shades as she looks up, a hint of smile on her lips. Her eyes swing back down to mine as those eyes are full of more something than I’ve yet seen—not softness—but perhaps appreciation.

“Darling…you astound me sometimes when you speak the truth of yourself instead of the lies they’ve forced upon you…”

“On us…” I breathe. Her smile twists the corner of her lips higher.

“On us,” she allows, wiping the tears away and leaning in to kiss me gently on the forehead, the nose, and then the lips. Again with an incredible gentleness she has yet to display. The animalistic hunger parting for a tender yearning.

“That’s why you’re so good…at?”

“Yes, darling…”

“Why did you pick me?” I murmur. “Out of all the people in the speakeasy, you chose me.”

“Darling…” she says, gripping my face. “You chose me, didn’t you? You caught my eyes and captivated me.”

“Maybe, I am an Outlier, because I was obsessed with you from the moment I saw you,” I admit and her smile deepens again, but only briefly.

“Well, I definitely am. I hope you don’t mind my particular fascination with a young woman.”

“If…if for some reason this doesn’t work out, will you be able to let me go? Richard and I…we were friendly…not like you and me. It was before I even knew he was an Outlier, but he never let me go. He was obsessed with me and followed me and hurt me. Will you do that?”

She begins to shake her head.

“All you have to do is tell me to leave forever and I will. If you wish to end our sexual intimacy and remain together I will protect you as I have promised. But I will never force you, Therese. You never forced me.” She strokes my hair again.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” I say, lifting an eyebrow.

“But before you knew, you didn’t try. You didn’t question…”

“Why didn’t you let me? Is it because of what they did to you when they created you?”

“Yes. I’ve come to use sex especially in regards to my own body as a weapon, especially after the war. I lost someone very important to me. Someone who showed me the way. No one after that mattered…not Harge, not Abby. Don’t tell her, please…that I only used her to see if she might be an Outlier. Later, she became a friend.”

“And me?”

“I’ve held off, because…because I couldn’t open myself up to you like that. They say it’s a vulnerable action, opening yourself up in sex. For me in some senses it is a trap for my partner, but I knew in the moment I first made love to you that if I let you touch me it wouldn’t be a trap for you. That’d I truly open myself up to you, like I did during the war with my former lover and that scared me…”

“You were scared?”

“Mm-hm. Even I get scared,” she says. “You scared me, Therese.”

“But I’m your bunny,” I whisper and she chuckles, nuzzling me.

“Soon, I promise. Please give me time. It’s been so long since someone has known the truth of what I am. It’s been even longer that someone has loved me despite it all, despite everything. I can hardly bear it.” I lean up to kiss her chin, her cheek and wrap my arms around her broad shoulders.

“I love you, Carol.”

She presses me into her more fiercely.

“As I love you, my bunny.”

***  
As greyish-yellow dawn filters in, Carol shifts underneath me. Her shirt is still covered in blood I realize. She hasn’t even had a second to clean up.

“I’m sorry, Carol…”

“What? Oh…sometimes, I forget. Sorry. I conk out when I get home from work after a rough night,” she says and kisses my temple. “I’ll order us some food and get cleaned up. Then, we’ll make our plans.”

Lifting me up, she lays me back down as if I don’t weigh anything and without a second thought now that she’s free to do so. I watch as her svelte form ankles to the comm pad by the door. I’ve seen her order from it a dozen times or so now.

“Classic, Chinese, or something else, dear?” she calls for a first. Usually she orders whatever she wants.

“Pancakes?”

“Pancakes, it is,” she says and goes about ordering it. “It’ll be in the drop box in fifteen. Can you manage?”

“Of course,” I say and have managed to get myself into a sitting position.

“Try stretching gently, before getting up. It might help,” she says. “Abby sent me some stretches we can work on to loosen you up in the mornings and evenings as you recover from the nerve damage.” She’s already up the stairs as she finishes her monologue.

I roll my eyes a little and lips twitching. Life with Carol is going to be different, dangerous, but different. But it’s the first time since I met Richard, I really feel safe. The first time in my life since I felt looked after. And that…if I die later today, I never believed in love until I met Carol. She makes it all worth it.

Slowly, I dare to stretch out the muscles in my shoulders, neck, and arms. Then, I work on my glams. Carefully, trying to balance that tight rope of stretching versus catching a spasm. The bags hit the slot with a clank, so I ankle it on over there feeling like an old hag as I hobble a bit. It’s always a little harder to walk without my boots on.

Grabbing the meal, I get myself into the kitchen and set it all out. I’m surprised to see she hasn’t ordered any alcohol. Usually, she doesn’t care what time of day it is in regards to her own drinking. There’s only fresh OJ and milk. A stack of those amazing pancakes, I fell in love with, and syrup.

I plop down and plow through them, because I don’t know how long they stay hot for and I don’t even remember the last time I ate anything substantial.

Carol comes down with wet hair, a towel around her shoulders, and in her red robe, chuckling when she finds me nearly finished.

“Sorry,” I say with my mouth full. She waves her hand, sits down and crosses her long glams in the seat. They seem to stretch on forever when any skin is showing.

“Pancakes get cold fast and you’re always so hungry,” she says. “I don’t mind. I know what it is to be hungry too. If I have anything to say about it, you’ll never go hungry again, darling.” She reaches out and cups my cheek. I swallow my mouthful of pancakes and lean into the fragrant palm, closing my eyes.

“I love you, Carol,” I whisper. Her thumb traces my cheek.

“As I you, bunny,” she replies. “Now, I’m a bit hungry myself. I had quite the workout yesterday. I rarely get to eat my fair share in front of another regular jane, so don’t mind me.” She pulls the rest of the food over to her, a mountain of eggs, bacon, sausages, and biscuits and gravy. I watch in wonder as she packs it all away.

“You burn up fat faster than we do, right?” 

She nods quickly.

“Especially when I expend an extreme amount of energy. Fighting Richard was…intense to say the least.”

“I’ve never seen it before then…but yeah…it was.” I look away, after seeing the cracked and crumbling cement of my wall to the bent metal of the vehicle, Dannie pinned to the wall by railroad stakes and Phil…oh god.

“Darling?”

“It was terrible. Dannie and Phil were my friends. Phil even guessed I was…that I liked women and he still wanted to be my friend.” I start crying again and she gets up from her food quickly, kneels down and hugs me to her. Her head presses against my chest as I cling to her.

“I’m so, so sorry…I wish I had known…that he was in the district sooner. I was tracking him, but I didn’t know it was him and he was so god-damned sneaky. Not leaving a proper trail.”

“He’d had lot’s of practice,” I whisper. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m the best. I should have—”

“You saved me. Isn’t that what’s important?”

“Yes, but…saving you from hurt, any hurt is what I want. Not just saving your life.”

“Eat, Carol. It’s no use beating yourself up over this. Shit happens. People die. Even people we care about.” I throw the useless emotions in the battered case that is me and throw away the key, or I try to.

“You’re too young, bunny, to even know that,” she murmurs. “It isn’t right.”

“You were born fucking men…when is it too young to know this kind of pain?” I ask her.

“You’re still a kid, bunny,” she says, shooting up and stepping away from me.

“You know I’m not.”

Her shoulders sag.

“I know. I’m sorry, that came out wrong. There aren’t any children in lowerside, not really. But you understand what I mean. You were a baby once and you grew up into who you are. I didn’t have that. I was always…mostly like this. I haven’t changed that much. Not really. Not like you.”

“Eat, Carol. We can be philosophers later,” I tell her and she let’s out a fierce chuckle, throwing her head back as she lights a gasper from the pocket of her robe, before settling down again to eat. “You’re not going to stop having sex with me, because you think I’m a kid, are you?”

Her eyes flutter up to mine.

“I should probably, but I won’t, because I love you, Therese, and you deserve to have someone make love to you.”

“I wanted to think that’s what you were doing. No one’s ever done that with me before. Made love. They’ve just fucked me.”

“I’ve only had one other person I felt that way about.”

“What was their name?”

“Virginia. She was one of the first sensual models created,” Carol whispers, eyes fluttering down to her food. “She had bright red hair, that she shaved every day during the rebellion. Beautiful, sharp green eyes. There was a scar along her temple, right here…” Carol touches the spot on her right side. “She had so many scars when we started making love. I use to count them and I had her tell me how she got every one of them. She was the smartest, most compassionate person I ever met. God, Therese, I loved her…no, I simply adored the ground she walked on. And for some reason she loved me back, even when I was an angry bitch all the time.”

My heart aches in a different way than I’ve ever felt. It’s not exactly jealousy, but it’s more like sadness that she had that kind of love and it slipped through her fingers and causes her so much pain even today. When I know it had to be so many years ago, before I was even born that this woman existed, walking other planets and rescuing Carol from a life of hell.

“I’m sorry you lost her.”

Carol sniffs, wipes a tear away and smiles at me.

“Oh darling,” she murmurs. “Love like that only happens…” 

“Once in a blue moon?”

“Perhaps I’ve lived long enough for another moon?” she murmurs more to herself and my heart leaps at those words. To be loved by Carol like that…She keeps eating now.

“I’ve had the cure shipped here. I pulled some strings,” she says. “After I finish, I’ll administer it and I promise you’ll feel right as rain again.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it, Carol,” I say. “You’ve already done too much for me.”

“Hush, now, darling. I’ll spend the rest of my life doing these things now that I don’t give a damn.” She plops down her napkin and fork, finished. “Come in the living room and sit on the couch when you’re ready for your life to change.”

I smile at her as she passes by me.

“It’s already changed!” I chug down the rest of the OJ and shift to the door. She’s pulled out a long shot from a bag. “Does it hurt?”

“No, quite the opposite. It’s designed to create a euphoric rush before it eases you down,” Carol says, tapping the shot. “You won’t feel nearly as grummy, bunny.”

I settle on the couch, shifting and trying not to fidget as Carol sits next to me with her gasper dangling from her lips and her eyes deep in thought as she applies the needle to the pulse point in my neck.

“Holy—” My whole body tenses and her arm wraps around me as I ride the wave of intoxication that reeks havoc from my head to my toes before it bubbles and let’s me sink gratefully into Carol’s arm.

It feels like the bliss after a good ride with phanta. I blink up at her and hug her, nuzzling into her chest.

“Thanks…”

“Now, hush, darling,” she says with a sniff. “I’m going to do something which you’re aren’t going to like soon and that’s changing your bandages.”

“I’d rather you kiss and make love to me…I’ve missed you, Carol…”

She touches my face.

“You are feeling better,” she says with a chuckle. “But not yet. You’ve got some healing to to do, darling, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you.” She kisses the top of my head. “Now, do you want to walk to the upstairs bathroom or shall I carry you?”

She scoops me up before I can answer.

“I thought I got a choice?” I murmur against her robe, arms around her neck.

“I changed my mind. I don’t get to carry you enough,” she replies. I squeeze tighter against her and kiss the long pillar of her neck.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I know,” she purrs and drops me off on the john in the powder room, before unwrapping the bandages and using Abby’s gear to continue to clean, disinfect, and even heal the nerve damage. The newest cuts are already shrinking closed to light pink scarring unlike the others, but the overall pain is decreasing.

“Hot bath?” she asks me afterwards. I nod. She runs it for me, pouring in the salts, oils, and bubbles, before helping me into the blessed warmth. “Feel good?”

“This is the best I’ve ever felt,” I say. “I didn’t even know I could feel like this.” She sits on the side of the tub, crossing her glams, and still smoking her small gasper. She’s always insistent about finishing it, no matter what. Down to the last stub, even mine if I leave it too long. As if every gasper is precious. “Can I have one?”

“A cigarrette?”

“Yeah, a gasper…feels nice, you know?”

“I don’t think you should smoke anymore,” she says with a frown. I blink at her, not sure if I heard her right. “It’s not like you buy cigarettes and keep them. These are bad for you.”

“I know, Carol. I can’t afford them because I buy dope.”

“Dope? Are you addicted to something else besides phantasmagoria,” she says with a shake of her head.

“Dope…you know like the meds you give me for pain.”

“Oh, I see. Pain medication. The cure should help with any addiction related to opioid use. Did you take a lot, Therese?”

“What are opioids? Um, no…I had to crush the few pills I could buy in a two week period and spread them out. It was all I could afford.” Carol snorts.

“How did you even afford enough phantasmagoria to get addicted?”

“I had a good job in my last neighborhood. Played with a real band. They all did it and they’d give some to me too, because they said that’s what all the good musicians did. They take it to play better.” Her lips tighten and she sucks hard on what little is left of her gasper.

“Well, I want you as long as I can have you,” she says and looks at the gasper in her hand. She shakes her head again, crushes the remains and flicks it in the waste bin. “I’ll have to stop myself, second hand smoke is bad for you too.”

“Second hand, what? And isn’t smoking bad for you too?”

“I can breathe and handle the harsh chemicals, gas, and substances found in a cigarrette, Therese. I’ve been designed to handle much worse on planets you can’t even imagine. Even a old sensual model like me. And second hand smoke is the smoke you breathe when I blow it out.”

“So no drugs?”

“No drugs, Therese. Didn’t know what you were signing up for with me, did you,” she says, fluffing her now dry hair. It somehow magically curled into a perfect hairstyle that she always has when it’s not slicked back.

“I get to drink though, right? You can’t tell me I can’t drink. You’re not going to boss me around all the time, are you?” 

She smiles wickedly at me.

“I already do. You like it. Don’t tell me you don’t. You can drink. I don’t want you drunk all the time, but you hold your liquor well,” she says. “I’m bossy by nature. I’m not sure it’s something I can change. I’ve always been a regular bitch on wheels as they say in the office.”

I look over her and she’s still perfectly Carol, even with all this new information about her. A sensual model, warrior, lover, and Outlier detective. I loved her when she an Outlier detective. I loved her when she was an Outlier. I can love her being bossy and all the above. I sit up, pull on the collar of her robe until her lips crush into mine and fire blooms between us.


	8. Roadtrip

“Where are we going?” I ask Carol, as I slide my backpack over my shoulder. Betsy is sitting on the bed as Carol buttons one of her grey jackets over a similar colored skirt that goes to her knees. She’s covered her hair with a salmon covered pañuelo with an elegant knot and has matching gloves, before she extracts another light brown mink from the closet.

“How many of those do you have?”

“I’m only bringing one, darling, and more than I need, really,” she says. “He ruined one of my favorites.” She frowns and I hug her arm, looking up at her.

“But I’m grateful.”

She smiles and bends down to kiss my cheek.

“Finish getting ready, darling. There’s some fallout today.”

I nod, not exactly sure what that means. She must see my confusion.

“It’s radioactive debris…it looks like snow or ash, but it’s dangerous for you,” she says, looking down at me. “The trench that I bought you will be fine, but you will need to wear a scarf and hat.”

She digs through her closet again, pulling out a black fedora that must’ve been Harge’s. She bats the dust off and puts it on the bed. Then, she pulls out another long pañuelo like she has on, but it’s black, she ties it around my head, so it mainly covers my neck and is easily able to pull up to cover my mouth. Then, she plops the too big hat on my head with an amused smile.

I push it up and adjust it. She comes out of the closet once more with black leather gloves that are much too long in the fingers, despite being women’s gloves.

“My little bunny,” she murmurs. “You look good.” She taps my hat with a smile. “Do you want me to carry your bag?”

“You have your own bag to carry and I’m better. Really,” I say and she looks at me with a tilted head.

“I can get it.” She reaches for the bag on my shoulder and I shuffle back a step. She steps in again.

“Carol. No, please—” My eyes widen as I think she will forcefully take it from me and there’s nothing I can do to stop her. 

Her hand stops its pursuit and her eyes flash to mine. Her lips purse.

“Of course,” she says and her hand drops to her side, making a fist. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” I nod.

“Thanks.” Because she really could make me.

“Are you ready? I can’t bring you back once we leave,” she says and this time her hand finds my shoulder. “I can find you another place to live.”

“No, I want to be wherever you are, Carol,” I murmur and her lips soften.

“Then, let’s go.”

We ankle it down to the garage where her breezer sits and she lifts her hand before I can grab the door handle.

“Can’t go out with it looking like this. Plus, the fallout…” 

It’s already blowing in like snow through the open garage doors and smells funny. I pull up the pañuelo to keep from breathing in too much of it. The fallout doesn’t reach lowerside much, so I never knew exactly what it was.

She tinkers on a raised pad and I watch in awe as the paint changes colors on the vehicle which sits on a platform with the wheels in heavy metal locks. It goes from red to flat black. She also lifts the top, so it’s shadowed glass from back to front, completely closed off again like most cars. Not so much a breezer, but a cage this one. 

“All set,” Carol says and opens the passenger door for me. “I can put your bag in the trunk.” She offers her hand this time. I pass it over. 

“Can I keep my sax up front?” I ask, holding the case protectively. She nods with a smile.

“Of course, darling,” she says and carries my bag to the trunk. She loads everything up and then drops off our supplies in the backseat so we will have access to food and drink while she’s driving. I shuffle a few water balls up to the front dash where there is a sterilized holder for them.

Carol sinks into her seat and begins undocking the car.

“I didn’t know cars could change colors,” I say. She looks at me and gives a soft chuckle.

“Not all of them. As a detective, I have to own an alternative vehicle to take into neighborhoods for undercover jobs. I have expensive tastes as you can see. I like the style of the convertible. It fits the jive of the neighborhood, but I also needed something…malleable to my needs. I don’t have garage space for multiple machines.”

“Oh.”

“The paint is really what changes,” she says. “Color signifies something. I’ve designed this particular color scheme to make the car look older than it is. It even has some rust and grunge damage on it.” She sounds quite pleased with herself as the cage lifts off the ground and we’re in the air.

“Oh, Carol, you never answered me…where are we going? Out of the city, I take it. I mean…it does end right?”

“No, not in the traditional sense. New York City is huge, swallowing portions of what was Philly,” Carol says. “You’ll see. Doesn’t quite reach D.C. though. The capital. We’ll stay clear of there, so we have to make a jaunt west before going south.”

My throat goes dry.

“D.C.?”

“We’re not visiting the Sovereign,” she says, reaching over to squeeze my thigh across the bench seat. “Now, don’t worry about being seen in the car. These windows—” She taps the screen. “You can see out, but not in.”

“Carol…what’s our final destination?”

“The space port in Florida. It’s the closest one,” she says and glances over at me. “You’ve never been out of New York City, have you?”

“I’ve barely been much farther than Manhattan and Long Island.”

“My bunny girl,” she says with a smile and I stare out the window intrigued about what more of upperside looks like. It’s rows and rows of low stacked buildings in a clear grid with a million lights, before suddenly growing into amazing, unearthly shapes of black, gold, blue, yellow and orange. From spires, curves, and strange beasts each are lit up with a million commercials.

“Why are we going to the space port?”

“It’s going to take us a while to get there so we can talk about it, but the safest place for us right now is off planet,” she says. “I can protect you better where there aren’t as many laws and fears about Outliers.”

“What? Carol, I can’t leave the planet,” I say desperately. “I’ve never left the block.” She chuckles.

“We can talk about it. I won’t make you do anything. I won’t ever make you do anything you don’t want to do. I promise, Therese.” She gives me a meaningful look, before looking back out the window. “We may not even make it to Florida. It’s a dangerous journey. We might die…”

“Yeah…we’ll probably end up in the clink if we stay though and then we’re good as dead.”

“Exactly. So at least it’s the start of a plan. If you come up with anything, you let me know straight away, Bunny. I promise, I’ll at least listen.” I snort and shake my head and she tosses me another smile.

“That’s awful gracious of you,” I tease as the lights go by beneath us, easy to spot under the catchers that block out the sun.

“I’m going to take us up in the rain. It’ll be rough and bit cold, but my car can handle it and we won’t be tracked as easy. I’ll come lower later so you’ll have something to look at besides the rain catchers.” 

She pulls up on the stick and we start up. I grip the dash, feeling how steep the climb is and Carol looks hungry as she pushes the car up even farther. It growls and burns it’s way up passing the catchers and we’re in open skies, getting thrashed by rain, dense clouds, and there’s no sun up here.

“Woah, this is nuts. It’s like a storm.”

“It is a storm, baby,” she says as the car gets buffeted around and Carol’s hands turn white knuckled on the wheel. “We’ll be fine. I’m licensed to fly at this level and above. You’ll be fine. Trust me and breathe, darling. Don’t forget to breathe.”

My breath escapes violently from my chest, because I didn’t even realize I’m holding breath. Her lips twist up into a devilish smile again and I shake my head at how calm she is.

“So…can I ask you some questions, Therese?” Carol asks me after a few long minutes. “We do have a long drive.”

“What sort?” I ask. She peeks at me, throwing her sunglasses to the dash with a flourish.

“Where did you learn to play? You’re very talented for your age.”

“Oh, that…my father played the sax and my mother the piano. They were both musicians and taught me a little when I was young. The sisters let me keep the sax and they even knew how to read music and kept teaching me. I could play by ear on the piano, so I’d play for them. When I left, I only had Betsy.”

“Betsy?”

“My sax. Father called her Betsy, the old dame.”

“That’s a nice name for a lady who can sing like she can.”

“It’s silly.”

“No, no…it’s family. It’s tradition. It’s sweet, Therese.”

I swallow, realizing she doesn’t have any family.

“You said you had a brother…how’s that possible?”

She let’s out a slow sigh.

“I’ll answer this question, but I don’t want to answer another while I’m driving, okay? They upset me.”

“You don’t have to answer.”

“No, it’s fine. I consider the people I fought with in the rebellion as family. We all do. My brother, Walter, was apart of my air support unit. I was on the ground and frequently communicated directly with him. As you know he died in transit to earth.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago, Therese.”

The silence is deafening after that, but she shifts after awhile and seems to relax again.

“When did you leave the orphanage? Don’t they keep kids until they’re eighteen, at least? You met Richard years ago.”

“I ran away when I was fifteen.”

“Was it hard, Therese?”

“Nothing was ever easy, but yea…I worked my fingers to the bone learning how to refurbish old electronics. My only breaks were playing the piano for the sisters when they were singing or playing Betsy for the Father or the Mother Reverend. The Father started taking a liking to me a little too much around my fifteenth year, so I scrammed.”

“And that’s how you met Richard?”

“Yeah, guess so. I didn’t have any clams and didn’t know how to live back then. Richard was different. He wasn’t so crazy. At least he didn’t show it. He came up to me while I was playing Betsy and never let me alone after that. He taught me to pickpocket and hooked me up with folks who taught me how to pop a lock real fast. I’d play Betsy and they’d snag clams from the gogglers.”

“Then, things went south?”

I nod.

“He was always possessive, but it got worse. He wanted more and more. Said he loved me and wanted to marry me. He never touched me, but if I was friendly with other people he would hurt them. At first it was normal stuff, but when he killed someone, so I ran. He caught me in the next neighborhood and that’s when he started hurting me. So I kept running until I thought I lost him.”

“Bastard,” she mutters. “Not everyone’s like that, Therese.”

“I hope not,” I say, rubbing my face. “It’s nice to be surprised these days.”

“You don’t think I’m like that, do you?”

“No. Could you be, yeah, but you choose not to be.”

She let’s out a huff of air, tapping the wheel and there’s tension in her shoulders.

“You can light up a gasper, if you like. If we’re going to die tomorrow, what does it matter if I get that secondhand stuff?”

She looks at me from under her eyelashes as she pops open her case from her mink coat’s pocket.

“Light me?” she says, fingers extend out the gasper to me. “It’s a nervous tic for me these days.”

“You nervous then?” I fetch the match and light her up properly. The gasper meets her crimson lips and a moment later, smoke billows into the cab. She clicks a button and it starts filtering more rapidly.

“Not about driving. So you have training in refurbishing electronics?”

“Old vintage stuff for the high-rollers. Cells, radios, computers—things like that. Stuff you dig out of the trash. Old game systems, anything that might sell. Nothing new.”

“Could you have gotten a job with those skills?”

“No, most of that’s for free labor, like rent and board stuff and I wasn’t going to go back to anything like that lowerside. I wanted to be free of the sisters and their religious sham. They took enough of my life, you know?”

“I know, Therese,” she says and takes another drag of the gasper. I look over at her haunted silhouette and wonder again what kind of horror my girl’s been through and that thought startles me. When did Carol become my girl?

“You’ve probably been told you’re gorgeous, right?”

The corner of her lip twists up, but she keeps her eyes forward.

“Not by you much.”

“I like the way you look, Carol.” 

She chuckles and waves me over to her. Sliding across the leather bench seat, I feel her arm tuck around me and I lay my head against her shoulder, realizing just how chilly it is in the cab with a shiver.

“You cold, Bunny?” she asks me, rubbing my shoulder. “There’s a blanket in the back, grab it for yourself, okay?” I reach back and find it folded on the floor. When I try to put it across her lap, she shakes her head. “No need, no need. I can handle the cold just fine.”

“Please,” I say and she glances at me, arching an eyebrow. “It’ll be warmer for me.”

“Very well, Therese,” she replies with a nod. I tuck the blanket around us, curling up my glams on the bench so I don’t affect her driving. She pulls me tighter against her. “That a’girl.”

Her smell, the exotic spiciness of it, overwhelms my senses and promises danger and safety simultaneously. 

***  
It’s pitch black when I open my eyes. I don’t know how long we’ve been driving. I rub my eyes and sit up, since I’d stolen the cover and used Carol’s thigh for a pillow. 

“Can you get me a bite to eat from the back?” she asks me. I don’t answer as I shuffle through the cooler in the back, pulling out a beer from it, then a soda for myself and a few sandwiches. I don’t know how hungry she is. She takes the first one and starts to eat it after she unwraps it. “Sleep, okay?”

I shrug. There’s a crick in my neck.

“I’ll stop in the next city. I don’t need to, but I don’t want you to have to spend so long in the car,” she says. “I need to stay sharp and it’s not safe to drive this late.”

“Can anyone even see us?”

“No, I’m in stealth mode.”

“Stealth mode?”

“No lights, low emission…it’s slower, but it’s safer.”

“What’s even out here?”

“Not much. Dust…nothing can grow in the ground, too dry this far out and too wet that far in—so there’s bandits and thieves out here. Much worse than what’d you find in the city. They get supplemental shipping priority from off world.”

“And Outlier’s grow it?”

“Last time I was off world they did, but that was a long time ago. There’s been some more skirmishes here and there. Maybe businesses have started transporting regular joes and janes to do the work. Who the hell knows? What they propagate sure isn’t true.”

“What’s that on the horizon?” I ask and point toward a flickering light.

“Chicago.”

“Another city,” I breathe as I sit up to peer out the window. She smiles and rubs my back.

“Yes, darling. Every city is a little different. This one doesn’t have upperside or lowerside like New York City. It’s all upperside and people live in different areas.”

The flickering lights grow and grow until it’s a mass of sprawling buildings and street lights as she lowers the car down. This time she doesn’t have to worry about catchers since it doesn’t rain here. She enters a stream of cars from a designated location and stops off in a parking lot.

“Search hotels.” She commands her car to look it up and it surprises me when on one of the screens a list of hotels appear. “Show true recommendations.” It blinks for more clams. She hits a button and the list narrows. “Closest available within top tier.” 

We’re driving again and park into a garage of a strange looking skyscraper built out over the lake. It’s got a long pole at the top, lit gold all the way down to the base and the rest looks like sail, but has space for thousands of rooms. Commercials blink along the broad white exterior surrounded by black.

“We’re staying there?” I whisper.

“Yes, darling.” 

I swallow as her car parks in a massive garage and a man stands outside the window.

“Are you currently residing in our establishment?” A man in a green tuxedo asks. She gives him a look and he blinks surprised at the occupants of the vehicle.

“No, not yet! Here’s our ID’s and papers,” she says, passing him a packet of documents. Last time I had checked my papers were in my bag. How Carol got them…I don’t know. It’s not like I have papers for out of lowerside either.

“One moment.” He steps over to his podium where a bulky man with a machine gun is. Carol shifts her hand to the guns under her mink and waits. The boy returns with our things.

“I’ll take care of parking your vehicle if you’d like to step out.”

“Thank you,” Carol says in a high voice and unlocks the door. “Come along, dear.” He opens her door and another man in another green uniform approaches us with a cart with wheels. “We have luggage in the back seat and in the trunk. My niece will want to carry her instrument. She’s very partial to it.”

Relief fills me as I shuffle to where she is standing. He acquires our things and I’m nervous about my bag, but Carol touches my shoulder briefly before shaking her head. We approach the door. She bends down close to my ear.

“Do you have any weapons?”

I shake my head. The doors are a set of golden double doors with massive pharaohs on them. They open as the porter approaches into a massive foyer teaming with people, desks, a bar, and casino on three different levels. Immediately in front of us are a line of surly looking mercenaries with equipment to scan for weapons like on the upperside.

“Slow down,” a thick, muscular woman insists in a black uniform. 

“I’m a detective. Here’s my badge and right to carry,” Carol says in her detective voice, flashing a black wallet with badge and ID. The woman examines it carefully, eyes narrow.

“What the hell are you doing in Chicago?”

“Tracking an Outlier that’s committed heinous crimes in New York City. That’s all you need to know.” She snaps the wallet shut and looks to me. “This is my niece. She’s part of my cover.”

“I’ll have to give her a pat down as soon as she steps through. Why don’t you go around first?” The woman waves Carol around the scanner. “Now you. No, go through…”

“My sax?” I ask.

“In the machine. It’ll pop out right over here, darling. I’ll grab it,” Carol says. I hesitantly release the handle, glare at the mercenaries and step through the machine. The woman quickly pats me down, assuming I’m not a threat.

Then, I grab my case as quickly as I can from Carol. The porter leads us over to the green marble desk across the dark carpeted floors that look like they have been pounded down to nothing.

Carol gets us a room fast and we’re going to the tip-top of the building. The porter drops off our bags and accepts a massive tip of clams from Carol. She seems to be throwing clams around willy-nilly. I step into the room hesitantly.

The walls are a dark blue, and everything else is some color of burgundy, red, and lush purple. There’s a huge four postered bed and cushy couch, a massive desk, a TV that covers the wall and what looks to be a massive powder room. The wall paper looks as worn as the carpet.

Carol lifts her hand before I can open my mouth. She grabs her black suitcase and opens it up. She places a silver metal box on the floor. It opens up and casts a blue light on all the walls. One is blank that leads out to the view of the lake. The other has the foot traffic of the hall, outlining people in blue forms. Then, there is the powder room and it looks like two people making love in the room pass that. The other room, there’s something else going on. Someone is sitting at the desk and there are wires going from him to our wall.

“Stay here.”

Carol steps out of the room and knocks on the other door. When the door opens, she forces her way in and begins to have a melt down. I can literally hear her yelling over here.

“This is supposed to be the best damn hotel in Chicago. I’ve paid a fortune. I’m a detective and I’m telling you it’s a illegal to tape the conversations of a police officer at work. If you do not get the hell out of this room there’s going to be hell to pay.” The man is grabbing his stuff, but she grabs something throws it on the ground and steps on it. “Get out. Get the fuck out or I’m going to have you arrested.”

I hear him stumble and start running for the staircase. Carol walks back into the room, looking pretty damned pleased with herself.

“What was that?”

“Snoop,” she replies. She adjusts the box so it’s only looking at the hallway and the two rooms with occupants. “We’ll have to leave that on to keep an eye out. Give me another moment.”

Despite the size of the room, she breaks it down into quadrants and finds a large number of bugs. I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling tired again as she crushes them one by one. When she’s finally finished, I’m curled up on the foot of the bed.

“Darling…” she purrs and kisses my cheek. “I’m going to order us some real food and see if I can’t entice you to wake up.”

“I don’t feel like it,” I whine a bit and she arches an eyebrow.

“Oh? Not even a little bit…”

“Why?”

“So I can kiss you.”

“You kiss me all the time.”

“Not like that, bunny.”

My cheeks flush and I sit ramrod straight. Her laugh is warm and fleeting as she taps in an order from the pad by the door. 

“Pizza…mmm, deep dish. I haven’t had that in ages,” she says with a fierce grin.

“Can’t we start now?”

“Let’s save the dessert for last,” she hums. It’s not long before a waiter comes up with two pizzas and a bottle of whiskey and a six pack of beer.

“Thirsty?” I ask her and she nods and fills a glass of whisky. I shake my head and pull off one of the beers, watching as Carol opens the box. This sure isn’t Manhattan street food. This pizza is deep and bready. 

“Enjoy, Therese,” she says with a warm smile. I sit down at the table with her and we eat like we do in her place, all civilized. Something I’m still getting used to outside of lowerside. Now, here I am living a dream with someone else’s worst nightmare.

I guess, it’s true what they say in lowerside. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. True for the both of us in that case. I toast Carol and feel the corner of my lip twist uncontrollably at her grin.

“To McKinley, the mayor of upperside!” 

“Hoozah!” I say and we both laugh at that and for once my laugh isn’t as cynical as I lean in toward Carol. She steals a beer and pizza flavored kiss from my lips as her eyes sparkle with mirth.


	9. A Rose and a Song

Carol takes a little longer to finish the pizza, so I ankle over to the window and see that it’s a balcony. I touch the door coder and it slides open. Then, I step out, feeling the wind ripple around me and taste the dust and fallout in my mouth. 

I make a face and come back inside, Carol chuckles at me.

“Yum. Sure you don’t want another bite of pizza to get that flavor out of your mouth?”

“I’m stuffed.” I take a drink of her whisky instead, leaning over her shoulder, and kiss her neck. Before I move to the TV. It’s playing a commercial and I click through the channels, most of them are grainy sexed and graphic filled if they aren’t commercials, so I try to shut it off.

“They don’t turn off. You can turn the sound down that’s about it. The sound will come back on midmorning though and stay on until noon at a low level,” she says. “Can’t get away from them no matter how much you pay these days.” She lets out a sigh and I finally find a channel where animals are eating other animals on a strange planet. “That’s Krion, they shipped and genetically recreated lions, elephants, panthers, and all sorts of game animals for hunting out there.”

“Hunting? Like they kill something that looks like that?”

“They have guns, Therese. It’s a pretty vicious place. Gambling and even an arena where they throw in Outliers and bet on who will survive against a few wild cats. That’s what they use to like to do with the rebels.”

She makes a face. 

“Do you want me to change it?” I ask and she shakes her head.

“As long as I don’t see an arena on the screen, I’m fine,” she says. “Otherwise, I’m busting it and I’ll pay the cost out of my bill.”

I shake my head. She lights another gasper and I move away from the TV and peek into the powder room. There’s a copper colored hot-tub and sink. Black stones line the wall in a large shower.

“Anything good?” Carol asks.

“We can both fit in the tub.”

“Therese,” her voice drops an octave with a slight warning.

My cheeks flush.

“Carol, you don’t have to…if you don’t want to.”

“What if I want to? I like bringing you pleasure, Therese.” I cross back to her and slide my hands over her shoulder and nuzzle her cheek.

“I know, but you don’t have to if it ever feels wrong or uncomfortable. I want you to be happy, ‘kay?”

She grips my hand, rubbing up my arm and I can feel the sparks climb up with her fingertips. My body’s craving it now that I’ve got all the addictions out of my system and I can really feel things. I only want to taste her and nothing else.

Her head turns and her lips catch mine. Her tongue runs over my bottom lip seductively and she tastes wonderful. Her smile and her eyes aren’t the same as when we first met. I pull back and examine her expression.

“What is it, Therese?”

“I’m trying to figure out what you are feeling,” I say. She turns in her seat, plays with my shirt under my trench.

“I’m thinking you have too many clothes on.”

“That’s a thought, not a feeling.”

Her chuckle runs over my skin like velvet.

“Okay, fine. I feel desire and…and it’s warmer. I don’t know what it is. Love, care…compassion. I really like you, Therese. Can I have you now? Can I have my dessert?” Now her eyes are gleaming wickedly.

“Catch me,” I say and dart away, but it’s only a second before I’m pressed in the bed with her arms wrapped around me as she’s kissing down my throat. I’m nearly breathless by her strength and speed. “Oh wow…” I laugh and she smiles against me.

“I love you.”

I wrap my arms around her and kiss her back. We struggle out of each layer of my clothing as quickly as we can until I’m naked before her once more. And I ache. My hips thrusting forward against her woolen skirt.

Her hand presses me back down and I whimper as her tongue dictates the speed. She doesn’t bite or nibble this time and it’s a surprisingly gentle experience. Languid this time as she finds the secret nooks and crannies that leave me whimpering or howling. Her teeth never come into play, only a warm passionate tongue and lips and the dance of fingers.

“Therese…” she purrs. “Mine. You’re mine.”

“Carol,” I groan. “Oh god, yes, please…”

“Tell me what you want..”

“You…take me, please. Please, let me have you.”

“I’m all yours, baby.”

I fall back into the bed, gasping for breath as she strokes my belly, dancing along the scars and moving away from the tender places.

“You did good, Therese,” she purrs, kissing my cheek. I look at her, studying her.

“You didn’t bite.”

“Not all love making is about biting.”

“Will you bite me again or now that I’m a plain jane…”

She presses her face against mine and I can see the intense blues of her eyes out of the corner of mine.

“Do you like it…when I bite you, Therese?” she says in a low sultry voice and I squirm, trying to get away from her, but she holds me in place, laughing. “That’s a yes.”

“Maybe…”

“Yes, I’ll bite you. If you enjoy it—”

“But do you enjoy it too?”

Her eyes are dark with desire as she looks over me, but she looks away.

“I wanted to give you this. Sometimes, I’ll want to give you this,” she says and her voice wobbles. “Only sometimes, take it as a gift. I’m not a soft or a good person, Therese. Don’t ever think I’m a good person.”

“I’m not either.” I grab her face as she looks down at me. Her lips curl at my words.

“Yes, you are bunny.”

I groan.

“Carol…I’m not a good person and you know it. Stop.”

“How many people have you killed?”

“Recently, two, almost three.”

“That was Richard, darling, not you. Do you blame yourself? Of course you do, bunny. You can’t stop the evil in this world.” She tucks herself against me, pulling me tight against her. Her other elbow props up her head. “You mustn’t blame yourself for the evil done by others.”

“I don’t understand. He was following me. I put you all in danger. If I had known—”

“You could no more control Richard than the rain in Manhattan.”

I bite my lip, gnawing on it and she catches it in her teeth, licking and sucking it. I moan and she starts her quest to conquer me again.

I don’t know how many times she brings me to the edge that night, but I wake up curled around her and practically on top of her. She’s sleeping heavily, even when I move she doesn’t move. I lie flat next to her to get more comfortable.

Then, her arm snakes out as she feels for something.

“Carol?”

Her arm wraps around me and pulls me flush against her as a little spoon.

“Oof…Carol.”

She moans softly and I realize she isn’t awake as she nuzzles her nose into my hair. At least, this is more comfortable. I close my eyes and feel safe again, falling asleep with her. Safe enough that I can really sleep.

***  
“Therese,” Carol whispers in my ear. “Therese.”

“Mmm?” I blink against the bright shine of the sun in my eyes.

“Oh god it’s so bright,” I moan. She slips sunglasses over my face. 

“You have to see it. Don’t look directly at it,” she says and pulls me out of the bed. I moan again. She stops at the window to the balcony. I move to open it, but she stops me. “You’re naked and it’s daylight. I’m the only one allowed to look at you like this now until further notice and it’s dangerous.”

She wraps her arms around me and my eyes slowly adjust. Her chin presses to my shoulder and for a moment, I can only think about her proximity and her delightful perfume before I start to see the greenish sky and the green lake placidly covered in neon blue and burgundy algae of some kind. It’s beautiful. The sun is bright, making the water sparkle despite it’s desire to be dull.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe.

“You haven’t seen anything yet. I’m going to show you the universe if you let me,” she whispers into my ear. I shutter in her arms, turn, and she kisses me fiercely. “Let’s stay another night? I’ll take you to the bar. Maybe we can get you a dress?”

“Mmm-k,” I murmur. “Bath in that tub first?” 

She laughs.

“Maybe, let me think about it. You first okay?” She pats my bottom as I trot away.

“At least sit with me?” I ask from the door of the powder room.

“You’re going to get tired of me pretty quick, Therese Belivet.”

“Not yet.” I lift an eyebrow like she does.

She sashays her way toward the powder room.

“Plus, who will show me what’s soap for my hair and what’s for the bath. There’s so many.”

Her chuckle follows after me.

***  
Our day is lazy until noon arrives. We eat good food. Carol eats a ton, but by noon I can only eat a little. She fusses, but I assure her I’m used to eating much less, so she let’s it go.

In her blue dress and mink and me, in a t-shirt and jeans, we ankle it on to the stores that are on five levels of the hotel. I follow Carol closely through the bustle.

My eyes catch on all the smoke, scads of people all high-rollers for the most part except the shop keepers, and all the goods. Lines and lines of stalls that sell everything imaginable.

“Want a horse?” A man asks me, skinny and frail, chest poking out of a button-up and a thick-calfed woman presents me a two headed snake. I swear, I think I see a mini-elephant in a cage bugle at me before Carol pulls me along.

“What the hell?” I whisper. 

“We are not getting a pet,” Carol says with a frown.

I roll my eyes.

Around the corner and there’s an onslaught of every type of food imaginable. The hubbub of chatter as people sit at the stalls and fuss, with their chop-sticks clacking at the chefs. Tanks of live fish line up behind rows of insects on sticks in carts.

“Try this,” Carol says and buys two fried scorpions. She offers me one. I stare up at her. They eat bugs on the lowerside too, but nothing that looks like it can kill you. She devours hers in one mouthful and pulls it straight off the stick, crunching down and purrs her satisfaction. “Go on.” She watches me hungrily as I take a tentative bite and quickly finish. “That a’girl.”

“Th-thanks.”

We reach the clothing stores on the next level. Stacks and stacks of dresses in various stalls. A skinny wrinkled woman in a sequins red and black dress and a black funny hat swirls around when we walk in.

“What can I help you with?” she asks, brandishing her long stick with a gasper on it. “A fine dress for you, madam?”

“No, I think my niece needs something nice to go out in,” Carol says, eyeing the millions of dress. “Shoes too.”

“That’s across the way. Only dresses here. I’ll fix it up to fit too.”

“Perfect. Maybe something blue and black…?”

“Oooh,” the woman says and claps her hands. “I know the perfect dress. Clara! Clara, get your fat ass out here.” 

A skinny, mousy young girl stumbles out of the back with even more dresses in her arms.

“Put those down and get the blue dress. The one I like,” the woman growls, smoking on her gasper in hard puffs, arms crossed. Clara nearly drops all the dresses, before charging full speed across the store and picking up a blue dress with black stripes of sequins and million threads hanging down at the bottom.

“Wow.”

“Try it on. In there,” the woman says, motioning with her gasper stick to a curtained stall. I grab the dress with shaking fingers because this is probably worth more than everything I currently own.

Inside the stall, I take off my clothes and slide on the dress. It’s nearly a perfect fit, just loose in the chest and hips and a little too long. It’s extremely low in front as I step out, holding it up a bit.

“Let me fix that,” the woman says and holds up a sort of contraption that shrinks the fabric of the dress down until it fits perfectly and Carol’s eyes rove over me with that ravenous wild animal still alive.

“What do you think, Therese?” she asks in a low voice. The woman smiles quite pleased with herself. I spin to look in the mirror and can barely believe it’s me. I’ve never worn anything this nice. Carol stands behind me and manages to still outdo me.

“It’s…I don’t even know what to say.” I look up at her. “You like it?”

“Very much.”

“Let’s get it then…if you want. I can’t afford it.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing.”

She pays the clams for the dress while I change back into my things. The woman puts the dress on a hangar and in a nice bag that Carol carries. Then, we’re off for black shoes, a few things here and there makeup wise, and finally a single red rose that confuses me. Carol has to tell me what it is, because I haven’t seen many flowers.

I follow behind her with the shoe box in hand. When we reach the room, she does another sweep and checks the room. She has to crush a few more bugs that were placed by housekeeping. 

“I’m going to have quite the bill in bugs,” Carol says with a chuckle. “This is yours.” She hands me the rose. “You deserve it.”

“Deserve it?’ I take the rose in my hand and bring it to my nose to smell. I’ve never smelled or seen anything like it lowerside. “Did someone make this?”

“Well, you didn’t complain once shopping. I’ve dragged you half way across the country…you’re something else, Therese. Someone grew it in a hothouse most likely. It’s a romantic gesture.”

“I told you as long as I’m with you, I’m good Carol and I am. Thanks for the rose.”

“Well, I don’t deserve you, Therese, and I will show you my love anyway I can every single day until you expect it and even ask for it.”

I chuckle.

“I’ll never expect it or demand it from you. You can give it and I’ll always love it,” I assure her. “Thanks…I don’t want to seem ungrateful…it’s just all—”

“New?” she says, settling on the bed, crossing her long glams as she rolls her shoulders out of the mink. “I can’t imagine what it’s like…looking at pieces of my life after everything you’ve been through.”

“It’s like a fairytale.”

“A messed up fairytale.”

“Maybe, but you’re the best part.” I cross to her and kiss her cheek. Pulling back, I look into her perfect face. The only lines there are the two around her mouth that deepen when she smiles or frowns. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, Therese. Don’t.”

“Can I give you something?”

Her eyebrow arches.

“What do you have to give me?”

“This…” I shuffle over to Betsy and bring her out. I get the reed wet enough to play and move my fingers over the right keys. “Give me a second to warm up and then I’ll let you know when it’s your song.”

“My song?” Her voice hitches and my lips twitch around the mouthpiece.

I play a bit. Just random stuff that isn’t anything.

“Okay...listen up, doll. This is yours, okay?”

Carol straightens, pouring all of her attention through those gorgeous blue orbs of hers and I really let Betsy belt out a song for her.

It’s been so long since I’ve been off the phanta and pain free. It’s been longer since I’ve been through this much shit for someone that I love. Love. I’ve never felt that, so I serenade the truth of that and that sings for itself. True, strong, and the most vibrant thing I’ve ever felt.

Pours right out from the box of me and breaks loose. Tears are rolling down Carol’s cheeks. Her eyes flutter shut and it’s like it’s destiny. Me on that blue lit stage, smoke flowing and a beam of light glancing off the rim of Betsy’s bell as Carol sits with a gasper hanging from her lips. Eyes cast down lost in the emotion of the piece as it coils around her and hugs her, pressing against the velvet, hot skin of her.

“Oh god…Therese,” she breathes when I finish. I slide Betsy to the table, because she needs me. Like a magnet pulled toward her, I fall into her embrace and this time I’m holding her. “I’ve heard a thousand songs, but yours are the best.” She presses a damp kiss to my cheek hard. “My brilliant bunny.”

***  
The scene is popping down in the bar that night. I feel like a real high-roller after Carol finishes with me. She dolls the hell out of me with all the make-up in the world and I barely recognize myself in the mirror. She peers at me with an intrigued look, but not that same panther look she gets when it’s just me and that makes me happy for some reason.

The smoke in this place is from the gaspers and vapes and smoke machines. A cacophony of sax, piano, and trumpet from the stage promises a lively time as leather shoes patter on the dance floor. Everyone is in high spirits here or are drugged up so much they seem like it.

The chandeliers light up the place with crystal shapes as Carol and I approach the bar. It’s big and wooden with a million drinks on the back wall.

“Don’t order a vodka,” Carol says drolly, lips twitching. I roll my eyes as the bartender approaches us. White shirt, bow-tie, cleaning a glass with a white towel, and he grins at us.

“Fine. One Manhattan. Sidecar?”

“You remember,” she says, smile growing. “Yes, a sidecar.”

“Right up, enjoy the night ladies.”

“What do you think of the band?” Carol asks.

“They’re decent. That piano player is brilliant.”

“High marks. I don’t much like the sax player.”

“You’re a bit partial.”

“Oh, I imagine, I am darling.”

A fella approaches in a black jacket and hat. 

“May I buy you gals a drink?” he asks, tipping his hat.

“Hm?” Carol says, looking over him with grey stormy eyes.

“We already ordered,” I say as the bartender puts our drinks down.

“Shame, next one up on me, doll face?” he offers. “I’m Billie and my buddy Jasper is taking a swing around the floor if you pair are up for a dance.”

Carol grabs her drink and takes a sip.

“Carol and this is my niece, Therese. I wouldn’t mind a dance. Would you?” She looks at me with hooded eyes. My throat goes dry. I hadn’t expected on dancing with anyone.

“Sure.”

“You’ll be fine. She’s shy.”

“Jasper’s a decent fellow. He’ll treat you right. I’ll take an old fashion,” he orders from the bartender. Who starts making the drink.

“I’m sure he is,” Carol says. “But can you keep up with me?” His grin grows wide.

“I can sure can try,” he says. “I know a few steps. Dancer, I take it.”

“Yes…” she nearly purrs and I feel the hair on the back of my arm rise as I shoot her a look. Her eyes are on me now and I swallow. All that heat is blooming in my belly as I wonder what the hell is going on.

Another young man in a green suit walks up with a beard on his face. He has a large grin as bumps into his buddy.

“That was a blast! Did you get me another partner? Lizzie had to bail. She has work tomorrow. Who is this?”

“Therese.”

“Can you dance, Therese?” Jasper ask. 

My cheeks flush.

“No…not exactly.”

“Let me show you. It’s fun.” He offers his arm and I cast a glance at Carol, but she already has Billie’s arm. We all ankle down to the dance floor and Jasper positions my hand on his body and the other on his arm before taking off. “Just follow me, doll. I’ve got ya.” For a moment, my eyes catch on the flex of his hips and the steps of his feet before I’m trying to keep up. “You’ve got the beat. Relax now.”

Then, I see Carol laughing as Billie flings her out and she swirls back into his arms her back to his front as they shimmy downward together. Jasper chuckles.

“Now, she’s a pro. Is she a dancer?”

“Yeah, apparently,” I say with lifted eyebrows. Carol makes the dance look sensual as her hands lead themselves down her body as her hips sway and her movements demand attention. Jasper shuffles me along.

“So stiff,” he teases. “You’ve got a back injury?”

“Yeah, sorry. Carol wanted to go dancing and I got roped in.”

“What do you like to do?”

“Drink and play the sax. I should be up on stage right now,” I admit and he chuckles at that.

“But then I wouldn’t have a dance partner.”

“I’m pretty bad.”

“Oh, you, sometimes it’s more about the dame in your arm than the dance. Let’s watch them and I’ll steal his drink.”

“But you wanted to dance—”

“I need a break,” he admits and we plop down on the stools to watch them dance. “You don’t see a dancer that good everyday.” We drink and Carol is somehow leading the show. “Man, look at her go.” His arm slips around my shoulder and Carol catches my eye. 

Suddenly, I see them narrow as her chin drops and her dance gets even more slinky. Jasper squeezes my shoulder. 

When the song is over, Billie is panting and Carol looks to be faking breathing hard.

“Oh darling! I haven’t had a good dance like that in ages,” she drawls. “You’re quite impressive. Let me borrow your friend. He seems to have gotten his wind back. Do you mind, Therese?”

“Oh no. Have a blast. You’re really good.”

“Oh don’t be a sweetie,” she says and taps my knee before dragging Jasper off me. He shrugs as Carol sends him clocking around the floor at an even faster pace.

“Man, she’s something else. Did he steal my drink? Another old fashion over here, friend,” Billie says as he leans next to me. A waft of heavy smelling cologne hits me and I miss Carol’s scent fiercely as I glance toward her. “I sit at a desk all day, not built for chasing dancers around. Let’s see how Jasper does.”

It’s a few more dances before they come off the floor and we all have more drinks. Carol is flirtatious and her full laughter snakes around us. Despite hating to see her in the arms of other men dancing, she’s still amazing and I can’t help giving her the same look of worship in their eyes as she shares story after story of crazy antics her and Abby have gotten into.

She extracts me much later to the disappointment of Billie and Jasper.

“Oh, I have to look out for my little bunny of a niece. She’s much too young for the likes of you two fellas.” Her arms slides around mine amicably as if I’m the one whose helping her after she’s had a little too much fun.

In our room, she straightens up, and does a quick sweep and check. Then, she pounces on me, pressing my back into the wall and devouring me with kisses and nibbles.

“Ooh, Therese…I barely managed to keep my hands off you.”

“Uh-huh—I thought I was going to have to rip you off the dance floor a few times.” 

Her laughter is low and sultry as she strips off my dress and tosses it on the floor. I moan.

“Do you know how many clams that was?” I demand, pulling away, grabbing it and putting it nicely on a chair. She has her arms crossed when I look back up at her. Eyebrow arched.

“I know perfectly well how much that _costs_ , bunny. Now, get back over here so I can ravish you properly, my dear.” She points to the space directly in front of her.

My throat goes dry at the demand and I carefully shuffle over to her and her long arms wrap around my shoulders, sitting there. Her blue eyes full of want and carnal desire.

“You smell so nice,” she whispers against the flesh of my neck as she sucks and licks a spot, claiming it roughly with her teeth. I whimper as she lifts me up, my glams wrapping around her waist as she carries me to the bed, pushing me down into the soft mattress. Her whole presence overwhelming as she pours herself into me like I do with Betsy.

I awake sometime later with her curled up in pajamas and her head on my stomach. My fingers are draped in her hair. She seems to sense the change in my breathing as she looks up at me with a soft sort of smile.

“Too rough?” she purrs. I shake my head as she crawls up my body and pulls me into a tight hug.

“Just right.”

“Good. I like giving you pleasure.”

“You made me pass out with pleasure,” I mumble, my lips twisting at the corner. She kisses me right there.

“You’re fun to play with.”

“I’m going to be sore tomorrow.”

“We’ll be in the car, nothing too exciting. Maybe we’ll make it to Florida.”

“What’s in Florida?”

“Dreams.”

“Is it rainy there?”

“Oh yeah, nothing but rain and flooding. The catchers can barely manage it. That’s where they started the whole upper and lower level concept.”

“Shut up,” I say and start kissing her. “Just for a moment,—your lips—” I catch them with mine and she pulls away, nipping toward me.

“Feisty. I like my feisty bunny.”

She scoops my bottom up and slides me on to her lap as we fiercely kiss each other until I’m out of breath and slide down to rest my head against her chest.

“Carol.”

“Yes, my darling.”

“I can’t wait to bring you pleasure one day.”

“You’ve already brought me more pleasure than I could ever imagine.” Her hands stroke my back with an incredible gentleness that belies everything about her. Blue eyes meet my green ones as she reaches up to thread her fingers through my hair. “My angel….flung out of space.”


	10. Just When You Think It Can't Get any Worse...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .So...at least you got three fluffy chapters before the violence returned.

“Carol!” I scream, fingers desperately dragging through yellow orange grit and sand. My ankle is clutched in the fist of some surly, detestable creature.

The cage smokes beside us, where Carol crash landed it after taking a few missiles from a hulking can of metal wrapped around what I can only guess is a human being. They’re now battling it out and I’m damn frightened to see that Carol might have met her match.

All I can hear are Carol’s fierce screams and grunts as she struggles to stay a step ahead of the tin can. Her fists pummel into the metal without doing much damage as steam erupts from it, but it continues it’s lazy attack on her.

Flipping myself over, I snap my foot into the man’s wrist. He’s burly with a heavy clothe of leather over his head, with a black face mask, and bits and pieces of scavenged metal over gear that looks older than anything I’ve ever worn in lowerside. A huge automatic rifle is slung over his back with two pistols on his hip and a cleaver ready to be pulled out. But it seems he doesn’t deem me as that kind of threat thankfully.

“Better play nice,” growls the man, breath louder in the contraption on his face. He prowls over me and grabs my collar, ripping me up and around, thick arm across my shoulders as I start to fight and once again face Carol and the tin can.

The machine has her in the air now. She’s pounding into the metal and making huge dents that don’t seem to matter. The top pops open to reveal a dark woman with sunglasses, holding a gun, pointed straight at Carol.

“No!” I scream. “Carol! Carol!” 

The gun goes off, several times and finally Carol stops fighting. A crimson river drips down from the arm of that horrible thing and all I see is a drenched mink and limp blonde hair. My heart hammers in my chest, eyes wide, and I wonder if everything is finally over. 

“No! No!” Tears stream down my face.

I don’t know if I want to live in a world without her. She is the only magic left on Earth for me.

“Is that an Outlier too?” The woman calls, machine taking huge steps over to us.

“No,” the man says. “She’s got spirit though.”

“Let’s turn them in for bounty,” she says, flashing a line of grim looking teeth. “That’s the best thing to do.”

“But I’m hungry!” The man whines and I hiss as his grip tightens. “Can’t I take at least an arm or a leg? She don’t need those.”

“Daven, fuck, no! We’ll get the money and buy real food. Real food, you idiot,” the woman snarls. “Hurt her and you deal with me. Got it.” Her gun cocks again and he stiffens.

He grunts, throwing me over his shoulder and the woman laughs as the shield drops over her body again as I fight against his back futile. Twisting my head around, I look up at Carol. All I can see is a steady flow of blood and her strewn across the thick digits of the contraption. Tendrils of red creeping down her stockinged calves and one of her tan shoes missing.

For a moment, we make eye contact and I can see for once all the fear and pain lain bare as she struggles to stem the flow of blood pouring out of her.

Everywhere, I look is desert, a desolate wasteland as far as the eye can see. We reach the top of the hill where two others rest with longer rifles, guarding what looks like a pen attached to a cart, a four wheeler, and motorbikes. One has thick dreadlocks and the other is an asian woman with tattoos on her face under her sunglasses and a long a thin muscular arm.

“You two take care of the car. Break it down for parts to sell,” the woman talks over a loud speaker from her machine. “We’re heading to city to turn in our prize.”

Carol’s put in the pen and the man hands me off to the machine as he wraps bandages around the wounds and handcuffs Carol to the bars after giving her a shot of something. Then, they throw me in after her.

“I’m sorry,” Carol whispers. I shake my head.

“Shut up,” I say, tears in my eyes. “Don’t. You did everything you could.” The man hits the bars of the cage.

“Shut up, Outlier bitch. We’re going to make just as much clams off you as her.”

He sits on the four wheeler. It growls to life and jolts us forward, farther away the car, from the false safety I thought we had. Carol fades in and out. Occasionally, she fights the handcuffs and bends them twice but doesn’t break them. She’s half comatose and injured, both effecting her ability to escape properly.

The woman in the machine is several yards behind us, jogging along and never getting too far away. 

“Carol…”

“It’s fine, bunny.”

“No, it’s not. You’re bleeding out, aren’t you?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m healing already. You can’t see it, but I am. Just will take some time…time we don’t have—I’m afraid.”

“They’re turning us in.”

“I’ll get us out of this. I’ll figure it out.”

“We’re going to die.”

“No, we’re not….you’re not going to die, Therese. I’ve got you. Come here.” She struggles to lift her arm and I slide next to her. She sets her head against mine. “That a’girl.” She starts coughing and some blood splatters out of her mouth. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

I’m not sure I believe her.

***  
The city breaks out of the sand like grey teeth and shattered husks. The people who stare back at us are mere ghosts in rags. Eyes white or covered in goggles, so dirty and skinny that I’m not even sure if they are entirely human. They watch us go by, but don’t make a move on us. I’m sure it helps that the woman is in a large mechanical suit, capable of subduing even an Outlier.

Carol has passed out, bandages bled through, but she’s still breathing. My hands are slick with her blood and my insides are nothing but panic and chaos.

There’s a gate of some kind ahead. Where the mercs have to show some ID to get into the main part of the city, where the buildings actually look somewhat livable—like parts of lowerside. 

We keep going and going, passing market places, bars, convenient stores in Chinese. Before, we arrive to a huge metal building that reflects the light of sun back cruelly and I can’t quite make out the strange asymmetrical shape where it looks like two triangles mashed together.

At a huge docking bay, various uniforms and fellas fight and dicker over prices for other human beings. Our mercs patiently wait in line to be received by the black uniformed men and women, pacing on the docks.

_shit_

“Carol! Carol,” I hiss and shake her a little, but her head lulls to the side, further on me. “We’re going into the clink. You gotta wake up.” The dark woman pops her top again and motions for the man to stop.

“We’ve two Outliers,” the woman says to a man in uniform. He hops down from loading bay and approaches us. “I shot her three times, two hours ago and that one is still alive and she damaged my suit.” The man nodded.

“And the other one?” he asked.

“Potential.”

“I’ll take them both. The standard rate is five thousand.”

“That’s funny because last time it was eight.”

“Well, there’s been a lot more Outliers lately. The price is, what it is.”

“I guess, I’ll just have to release them both.”

The man shifts.

“Six.”

“Eight fifty.”

“Seven, and that’s final.”

“Seven fifty and they’re yours.”

He ponders it, before nodding and counting out the clams before tossing it to her. Then, he motions for more uniforms to extract us. They have these prods that electrocute you. I’ve seen them enough in riots that I’m scurrying out.

“Carol…don’t hurt her with that. She’s not awake, too much blood loss and they gave her something to make her sleep.”

The man nods and motions for a bigger man to get Carol. I’m appalled when they grab her ankle and drag her out. She hits the ground with an agonizing crunch. After a moment, he decides it’s safe to pick her up. He slings her over his back like she’s a sack of potatoes instead of a person.

I nearly upchuck, but they cuff me and nudge me in her direction.

Inside is a processing center and I know I’m fucked and fucked in a big way, but all I can do is think about Carol. Like how the hell am I going to get us out of here, when I know there’s no way out.

They seem to decide pretty quick what to do with Carol, but when I’m motioned to the woman sitting at the desk she frowns.

“Outlier lover,” the man says disgusted, nudging me hard with the baton. The woman frowns.

“Then, we might as well stick her with them.” She stamps my new make-shift file and she waves us away. “They’ll take care of her quick enough.”

“No, wait! I’m not an Outlier!” I scream, starting to fight against the man, but he strikes me hard with the baton across my face and everything goes dark.

****  
Groaning, I remember this sensation all too well from the last time I was in the clink. I spit up blood and spittle on a concrete floor. Forcing my shaking arms under me, I look around for Carol and spot her across the room, passed several other women…Outlier women.

I shoot up and ankle as fast as I can to her, ignoring the bite to the stiffness. Ignoring their eyes watching me ankle like an old woman instead of a perfect Outlier.

One of the women, in a mussed suit, leans over and talks to a skirt in a hush whisper.

“Carol,” I say. “Carol.” I grab her arm and shake her a bit. Then, I pull up the bandages and see that the bleeding has stopped. “Wake up.”

“She’ll be fine. She just needs time to recover,” someone says. I jump and look over at a brown haired woman with intense eyes. She’s dressed in a set of black scrubs.

“What?”

“Not an Outlier.” This is from a blonde who abruptly charges me, but the woman offering advice slams into her and knocks her down. Their movements more of a blur until they are pressed together, a hand around the blonde woman’s throat.

“Back to your corner, Arnette,” she says in a low voice. 

“They’ve done this to us and you want her to live. She deserves to die. Die like those other filthy monsters.”

I cringe against Carol, but she still doesn’t move.

“We don’t know what’s going on yet,” says the woman in the black suit. “Patience. Wait and see their game. It’s not like we get many who actually give a shit about one of us.”

“Carol’s…Carol’s special,” I whisper and touch her face. “Can you help? Can you get the bullets out?” This is to the woman who is handling the blonde, but she lifts her hand.

“Corner. Now.” Finally the blonde ankles back to her corner. She watches me the whole time, hungry in an entirely different sense of the word than Carol ever was. Longing to devour me like Richard once did. “Will you two watch her?” This is to the skirt and the suit and they both nod. The woman bends down next to me and Carol.

If I had any sense, I should be scared, but after Carol…I wonder if not all Outliers are bad. I wonder if they are all joes and janes just trying to make it by. The only way to find out is to treat them like I did Carol…give them a shot.

“So, she’s Carol?” The woman in scrubs points to Carol.

I nod.

“She saved my life from another Outlier, but honestly…I liked her before that.”

“Quiet now, they have ears in this place and I don’t know how much I trust Arnette.”

“I’m going to die anyway, right?” I mutter, stroking Carol’s limp hair.

“Probably, but at this rate it’s about how you want to die, opposed to not dying. I’m Rindy.”

“Therese. Why…are you? Do you know anything about this?”

“I was a doctor until someone found out what I am,” she says with a frown. “I’ve managed a few Outlier cases. It looks bad, but it’ll be fine. It will do her more harm to remove the bullets than it will to leave them in. Do you know who shot her? What kind of people they were.”

I nod.

“They shot us down in the desert. There was a woman in a a huge machine who shot her with a common pistol.”

Rindy nods.

“See, she’ll be fine. I doubt they could afford anything special. You know, anything poisoned or radioactive or something strange. Carol will heal. She’s an Outlier and they have unique healing properties.”

She changes the bloody bandages, checks the wounds, and replaces them with strips from her own jacket.

I manage to get to the dumping bucking to upchuck a few times, before I recover enough to dare creep a little closer to Rindy. All I can think about is how Carol is going to die. She’s groaning now.

“Hush, now…don’t move. I know it hurts, but you’ll be fine for a bit. You won’t die from a couple of bullets in here. That’s for sure.”

Carol’s eyes snap open and they are glazed.

“Just—where’s—,” she growls. “Therese.” I get close enough to touch her hair. “Ack.” I slide her head in my lap. “I’m s-s-so sorry—ack!”

“Shhh, no. Don’t. You had no control over those mercs. At least, we’re still together. That’s what matters, right?”

She shakes her head, tears in her eyes.

“Never this…never this for you.”

I bend down and kiss her forehead as she cringes against the ungodly pain she must be in.

****  
The clear plexiglass is messy, smeared with anything that can be imagined. The hallway is generally empty, except when they are marching people in and out. Sometimes, there’s a long line of barely human-looking bodies. So thin their bones stick out at sharp angles and it doesn’t look like there is an inch of fat on them. They’ve also been shaved and covered in sickly sores and blemishes, wrapped in barely there smocks as they stagger forward to god knows where—deeper in the facility.

Carol shifts on my lap. Her grey-blue eyes opening and looking up at me. Then, she sits up abruptly and I instantly miss the warmth of her in the chilly cell. She glares across the room.

“You so much as touch Therese and I will destroy you,” Carol spits in a low voice at the blonde, Arnette. Her eyes widen.

“You think you can?” Chin out as her teeth snap.

“I’ve killed more Outliers than you’ve probably met,” Carol replies and I grab her arm. She looks down at me, sliding her arm possessively around me. “I’m sorry, darling. I never—I should have been more careful.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know the mercs would have a machine.”

“A mech. I should have thought of it. I’m a fucking detective. My job is to think of unpredictable things. In fact, stay put—” Carol stands up, ankles towards Arnette. She stiffens against the wall, rising to her dogs. Her teeth flash again.

“Don’t Carol….don’t!” I snap.

A blur of motion and Carol slams Arnette against the wall, teeth bared as the two wrestle. Arnette doesn’t stand a chance, already her face is covered in blood without how fast Carol’s fists move, but then the ceiling starts spewing green gas.

Carol spins away from Arnette who jumps on her back. I start hacking first as Carol tries to get back to me.

“Carol!” I reach for her and collapse, darkness taking me.

The headache that bangs away in my skull isn’t something I like. When I peek out into the world, I realize I’m still in a fucking cage. This time, it’s smaller. I slide up, forcing my back against the mucky panelling. 

“Therese!” I hear Carol’s voice and it’s farther away, across the hall. She’s pounding on the clink’s walls. Hands blistered and red, body naked as her clothes burn on the ground.

“Carol!”

“Hush,” Rindy says. I jump and turn around. She’s on the other side of the wall from me. “They’ve got her in another experiment now. Seeing how much an older model can handle the heat.”

“Shit. They’re burning her alive?”

“Slowly but surely.”

“What’s the experiment, you’re in?”

“We’re in now, doll face,” she says and looks back to Arnette who is slumped over and bloody from Carol’s attack. “They put us with Arnette on purpose. She’s succumbed to the hysteria and neurasthenia. They want to see if we will turn faster in her proximity and now they are testing if a regular jane will speed up the process for all of us.”

“Shit.”

“Shit, indeed. There’s no telling what they’ll do in the meantime to you. Putting us under stress seems to be the name of the game. Seeing what will make us snap.”

****  
Most of the clink time is waiting, waiting for the next thing and trying not to watch Carol suffer. Her moans are a near constant. Then as I examine my cell I realize it has a lock, a real lock near where the panelling touches the wall.

“Rindy, do you have a hairpin? Does the suit or the skirt have one?”

“Trish and Gen?” she hisses. Exhaustion in her eyes. They look up at her. Trish crosses to Rindy and fishes one out, before handing it to her. She plops down against the wall. Rindy slips it under the door to me.

“Watch?” I ask them and they nod. I move to the door and start tinkering. 

“Gen,” Rindy says and looks toward Arnette while jutting out her chin.

“Those people they move passed us, are those all Outliers?” I ask as I work, tongue pressing against my cheek. Sometimes, it helps to talk while I work at the problem. Rindy snorts.

“No, they couldn’t move that many at once without them getting killed. Those are the criminally insane regular joes, the unwanted of society,” Rindy mutters angrily. “They do all sorts of terrible testing on them just like us. We’re just more…durable.”

“Bastards.”

“You’d probably have ended up with them if it wasn’t for Carol,” Trish says. “I don’t know if you’re lucky or not.” Her kind face is marred by a frown.

“How’d you and Carol get together?” Rindy changes the topic quickly.

I shrug.

“I knew there was something special about her the moment she walked into the speakeasy I was bartending at. I don’t know why she picked me.”

“Music, Therese. Your music…” Carol’s voice is ragged and screamed raw, but it somehow carries to us with a persistence and fierce desire to fight and keep on surviving. My heart stutters when my eyes meet her exhausted grey ones. She’s fighting for me. Her face is pressed against the plexiglass, eyes desperate and red. Her skin is even worse looking with the blistering.

“Apparently, I enchanted her with my sax playing,” I say with a dry chuckle, but there is no humor in me at the moment. I don’t think I will ever laugh again if Carol is taken from this world.

“The best…the best I’ve ever heard…” Carol manages.

“Hush, save your strength,” I beg and she nods.

“Love you.”

“I know,” I whisper. When I look back to Rindy, her eyes are watery. She looks away, wiping at them.

“Someone’s coming,” Trish says. I pass the hairpin back quickly. Two men in uniform appear, open my door and drag me out. Carol beats against her cell, palms flat and quickly bloodied. A baton smacks in front of her.

“Easy, meatbag,” the man barks at her.

The other tosses a thick wire-like rope over a hook and ties my wrists with it, before pulling me up until I’m on my toes. His grim smile is nothing joyous. I spit in his face.

“Fuck you.”

He smacks me hard in the face. His grimace reveals perfectly white teeth and a scar on his lip that pulls taunt. Blood splatters across the floor and Carol’s turned into an animal desperate and manic against her clink’s walls. He rips my t-shirt open and presses the baton into my skin, eyes dark with something hideous. Then, a flick of his thumb and—

My eyes roll back into my head. Muscles spasms up and down my body as I convulse against the lightening that grips me in manacled claws, digging in and I don’t know anything for longer than I care to admit.

****  
When my eyes flutter open, crusted and gunky, it’s quiet. My knees ache from the weight pressed on them, my arms are numb over my head. A whimper escapes my mouth and then another as a shiver takes me.

“Don’t move,” Rindy breathes. “Don’t move. It’ll hurt.”

My body shakes of it’s own accord and the pain laces through me, but not as bad as the electricity.

My scalp feels strange, more airy, and I realize they must have shaved me like the other regular janes. I want to rub the top of my head, but I can’t. Carol is watching me with red eyes, pained and shattered. Dried blood smeared on the plexiglass in front of her.

When the uniforms return, they push me through another session of a different kind of hurt—just hits from the heavy batons—and throw me back into my cell.

For a while, all I’ve got strength for is dealing with torture sessions. I’m too tired and in too much pain to even think about picking the lock, even though Rindy, Trish, and Gen take turns begging me to get up, telling me I’m the strongest jane they know.

One by one, they whisper their stories to me in the dark. As if that will galvanize me to get on my dogs and save them. Rindy is an EMT. She spent her life saving lives until someone uncovered her for pulling one too many long shifts in a row. Trish, the secretary, who refused to make love to her boss and was turned in as a potential and accidentally outed herself in panic. Gen, or Genevieve, fell in love with another Outlier woman. Their relationship was discovered and her lover was killed, before she was brought in.

But it doesn’t mean anything with Carol burning alive in the next cell over and the only folks in my corner is the doctor, a stock broker, and a secretary. I know I’m not strong enough to make it, because each time they strip off another layer of me—there’s nothing but darkness and pain and Carol’s eyes staring hopelessly at me, because we all know I’m going to be the first to die in this profaned sterile hell.


	11. ...You run out of Gaspers.

I’m done watching Carol waste away and I grab the offered hairpin. Fingers covered with dried blood, nails chipped and jagged, and a pinky twisted in an ungodly angle.

But it clicks and I fall out into the hall with a thump.

“She did it.”

“Holy Fuck,” Gen mutters.

Pushing myself, I struggle to get to Carol.

“No, us first. If the guards come, you’ll need our help to get out,” Rindy says. “Gen, Trish take care of Arnette.”

“No! I’ve been good. Let me out too.”

“You don’t deserve to live with all the death you’ve caused,” Gen, the stock broker suit, crosses to her and with a sickening twist of her neck, Arnette hits the ground. I’m too tired and sick to upchuck again. It sounds harsh, but Arnette was lying. She hadn't been good. Every chance she got, she'd tried to hurt them when they were sleeping. She'd broken Trish's arm in a scuffle and broken a few fingers of Gen's as she struggled to fight her off Trish, who Arnette thought was the weakest. She had every desire to kill them, everyone of us--just like Richard. She was completely bent on the hurting of people, gone insane from who knows what. Her make, her design flaw, or worse by the cruelty of others.

Shakily, I cross to the clink’s door toward Rindy and start working the lock. Now that I know what to do it pops open nearly instantaneously and Rindy catches me when I stumble. Carol growls weakly and a hand slaps the plexiglass hard.

“Easy, old girl. I’ve got her. She can’t go in to get you,” Rindy says in gentle tones as she helps me over to Carol’s clink. Carol looks up at me with dark eyes. I start to pop the lock, but the hairpin snaps this time. 

“No. No. No—” I growl and stomp my foot.

“I’ve got another one,” Trish says, placing it in my hand and squeezes my shoulder. “You can do it, Therese. You’ve got this.”

"Breathe...be patient," Rindy whispers into my ear as my fingers start to shake.

Then, the door pops open and the heat hits me first. I gasp as Trish drags me away as quick as she can.

“Carol!” I whine as Trish hushes me. Rindy rushes in and drags her out, before slamming the cell shut. Carol pushes Rindy away, tries to stand to get to me. I push myself up with Trish’s help, but then Carol falls, I dive to catch her. Our bodies crash together hard and recklessly.

“Therese, Therese, my angel…” she whispers, pressing her hands disbelievingly against my face. I bury my face into her shoulder. 

“Hey, look what I found,” Gen interrupts. I don’t look up and Carol doesn’t move. Her arms tightening around me, nearly too tight.

“Oh good and those white jackets too. Let me get them dressed and then…Trish? Want to do the honors?” Rindy asks, bending down next to Carol and me. “Here…” She has two of those white drapes they throw over the regular joes and janes. She tosses one over Carol and I help button it as she watches me, stroking my face again and again as if she can’t believe I’m finally in her arms.

Then, Rindy tosses the other over me and helps me button it, because Carol is still out of it, nothing but glazed looks and hisses.

Then, another black uniform is produced for Rindy, who afterwards picks up Carol in a fireman’s hold. Trish puts her hand on my shoulder. I jump when I see her in that black uniform. Suddenly, it all hits me—the fear and memories—and I’m not sure who’s friend or foe.

“It’s okay, Therese. It’s me still. Can you walk?”

I nod, even though I’m not sure my dogs can carry me through the grimy hallways. But I want to. I have to see Carol. I stagger between her and Rindy. Gen takes the lead, scouting out ahead while Trish watches behind us.

“Anyone got an idea how we get the hell out here,” Rindy mutters. 

“Left.” Gen calls from the back when we reach an empty juncture where two men in undergarments are knocked out. At least, I hope they are knocked out. Then, I think maybe I don’t hope they are alive after everything they’ve done to us.

“I thought I saw a window cleaner unit out here,” Gen says in the office. It’s nothing but fuzzy small screens showing the cells, and there’s the soft talking of a thousand voices. The woman that was in here is knocked out too. “She was sleeping. Drunk as could be.”

The window isn’t something that can be opened, but that doesn’t stop Outlier strength. This isn’t made out of the same security plexiglass. So Gen and Trish manage to pop it open without a problem. First, they shuffle me out, then Carol who’s fighting again, but once she sees me, calms down immediately. I hold her shaking body up. Then, one by one the others climb out into the windy night.

Gen doesn’t know what to do once we are out here, so I knock her hands away from the emergency manual settings and start it up and let it drop down slowly. Thankfully, we are only on the tenth floor. We end up on top of the car garage.

One by one we drop out of the window cleaner onto the roof of the garage. From there, we crouch down to make our next plan.

“Can you break into a car?” Gen asks hopefully.

“Depends on the car, but I can,” I say.

“Aren’t you full of surprises…bunny,” Carol rasps in a dry voice, but her mouth is twitching as Rindy has her slumped over her shoulder.

“You got a real prize,” Rindy says with a lop-sided grin. “Let’s move.”

We still have to break into the garage, but that lock’s a ton easier than the one up in the clink. Then, we drop into the garage and I pick out a car I think I can hack. 

It isn’t long before we’re finally in one, flying out, and I start to get the feeling that we maybe are going to make it out of this city alive. Carol is curled up against me with Trish in the back as Rindy and Gen fight about where to go.

Apparently, we’re not leaving Nashville tonight—which is where we are. We drive for a long, long time putting distance between us and the stripes before they land in a lowerside style area. I show them where to park and convince a guard to watch the car, because these guys are all uppersiders and don’t understand the first thing about living in a rough area. Thankfully, there’s enough stuff to pawn off in the trunk to cover the cost, but then we have to send out someone to get fresh clothes, but no one has clams on them.

So the girls have to steal them. It takes a little bit of time, but we’re all dressed in something and have a few clams to get a room at a motel. This one is a shit hole compared to the one Carol got us in Chicago. It’s a one room with a full size bed. Carol and I are the first ones to curl up into it.

I hold her while Rindy fills the tub up with cold water for cleaning ourselves up with. Carol wraps her arms around me, hand glossing over my shaved head.

“This is a new look,” she purrs and I’ve missed that sultry low tone. I look down at her as she curls into a smallish ball around me, convulsions taking her every few moments. My eyes are watery, but I don’t have anymore tears. 

I hate how they made such a powerful woman like Carol, somehow small.

“Yeah, I thought you might like it.” I bend forward and kiss her lips gently. Her arm slides around my neck as she pulls me tighter against her and she drops her forehead to my chin. Suddenly, I feel her chest pumping out and in as if she’s struggling to breathe. Each breath sounds like something caught on sand paper. “Carol?”

I pull back and she hides her face. 

“Carol?” I say more insistently. I pull her arm away and there are tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I thought I’d lost you, bunny. I thought I’d destroyed you.”

I can’t help but stare at an image I thought I’d never see. A crying, nearly sobbing Carol, and it frightens me. I reach out and wipe them away. 

“Hey,” I say. “Hey, don’t cry. I’m here. They hurt me, but I’m still here.”

“Do you hate me? I couldn’t even rescue you…I couldn’t be strong for you…”

“Carol, stop. I love you. I’m your bunny.”

“You’re not a bunny. I don’t know what you are Therese. My angel…my…my—”

“You’re my purpose. My life didn’t have meaning until you walked into it. I can lose Betsy, but I couldn’t lose you, Carol.” She gasps and buries her face into my side.

“Your sax…your father’s sax…”

“Doesn’t mean a damn thing without you anymore…there will be more sax’s. Do you still have access to your clams?”

“Yeah, not all of my money is centralized in my Aird account. I need a bank.”

“Tomorrow.” I kiss her and it blossoms into something more passionate, but both of us are too exhausted for much else and we have guests. She’s soon sleeping against me with my arms wrapped around her.

I’ve never been able to afford a motel on the lowerside. But this one is small, grungy, with a tv that only plays grainy commercials. The bed is stiff as a board and the walls are a dark grey with commercials in the frames, a constant promise of sex, booze, and drugs from skirts and maybe even those are sensual Outlier models now that I think about it.

I brush Carol’s hair from her face and kiss the top of it again. Glad she’s spared of that fate at least, but hating what she had endured. Sure I was beaten, electrocuted, and hurt, but she had experienced a non-stop torture of the heat being cranked up. Who wouldn’t have gone insane? But here is Carol, herself, in my arms. The strongest woman I know. I nuzzle into the sweaty, dark scent of her and catch just the tip of her exotic spiciness that will always be her.

****  
When we wake up, Carol carries me to the powder room. I jump in her arms when I realize what’s happening and cling to her neck.

“It’s okay, luv,” she murmurs. “We’re just going to clean up. The girls are sleeping now and I’m feeling much better after some sleep.”

She places me on the john as she grabs a cloth from the water in the tub and rings it dry, before placing it on the side. 

“You recover so fast, you know it?,” I say with a twist of my lips. I crack my neck and lean back. “I’m totally green-eyed over here.”

“Well, you do have green eyes, Therese,” she says with a small Carol-like smile. It’s nearly shy compared to before the clink and the stripes.

“I mean, I’m jealous, Carol.”

She chuckles. Fingers tapping impatiently for a gasper. I grab her hand and squeeze it gently, bringing it up for a gentle kiss. She meets my eyes. Her eyes have gone a soft tired blue.

“I know. Damn, just when you think it can’t get any worse, you run out of cigarettes. What I wouldn’t give to have one right now.” She let’s out a sigh. “Can I help you bathe?”

“Might as well, while we’re here, right?” I ask, looking up at her.

“I’m asking, Therese.”

“Yes, please. I don’t think I can move my arms without some help to be honest. Everything is hurting.” 

Her hands are gente as she pulls them up and strips off the shirt from my body, covered in bruises this time. She wipes down my skin with the cold water and I feel the gooseflesh. Then, she helps me out of my pants and continues her careful ministrations with a sort of veneration. I shut my eyes and lean my forehead against her ratty shirt. 

When she’s finished, she washes my hair by putting me on the ground near the tub. I have to stick my head over the side and she cups the water with her hand over and over until she’s satisfied. Then, she bundles me back up into my clothes and gets a fresh tubful of water.

“You want me to leave?” I ask.

“No, I’ll need your help too.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’ve already seen it, Therese,” she says, stroking my cheek.

“But just because they forced it…doesn’t mean—”

“Bunny, please, I need your help. I hurt too. I know I can hide it, but I hurt and I need your help.” There’s an edge to her voice that’s never been there and I stroke her face.

I hug her tightly to stop the rush of emotion pouring through her.

“Hey, hey…I’m here. I’ll always be here and I won’t hurt you, promise.” 

She sniffs against me.

“I know, Therese.”

“There’s knowing in your head and knowing in your heart and sometimes you’ve got to be shown before you know in your heart,” I tell her gently. “You can tell yourself until your blue in the face, but it doesn’t change how you actually feel.”

She swallows and that hollow fear in her eyes doesn’t go away.

“You undress and I’ll clean. You’ve got the power. When you tell me to stop, I will.”

Her hands are shaky as they pull off her shirt and it falls away from her blistered flesh. Most of her skin looks like it’s been peeled back an agonizing layer while other areas are white blisters or charred black.

“What can I wash?” I ask her.

“Just dab at it, slowly. It’s going to take some time.”

So I gently as I can press the cloth to her skin and feel her tense. 

“I’ve been hurting you, haven’t I? By touching you…”

“It’s a much better hurt than I’ve experienced since we went into the facility,” Carol admits, watching me with grey-blue eyes. Her hand reaches up and strokes the side of my face. “I miss your lovely hair.”

“I miss your porcelain skin.”

“It’ll grow back.”

“Mine too.” 

She leans forward and presses her lips against mine. It’s chaste as she pulls away, cheeks flushing in contrary to what I know of Carol.

“Sorry…you’re being so good.”

“I’m not taking advantage of you while you’re this hurt and a kiss isn’t going to change that.”

Cleaning Carol brings my hidden tears to the surface, because there isn’t a part of her that isn’t touched. I know she will heal, but to see how much pain they willingly put her through for the sake of a dumb experiment is terrible and inhumane.

Helping Carol into her clothes, I position her by the tub again and help wash her hair like she did for me. By the time we’re done, Carol and I lean on each other and return to the main room. The others are all curled up on the bed asleep.

So, Carol leads me to the one chair in the room, sits down and motions for me to sit on her lap.

“I’ll hurt you.”

“Worth it,” she murmurs. “Let’s sleep some more and I don’t want you anywhere, but my arms.” So I finally climb into them and she wraps them around me tightly, tucking her chin on shoulder and I kiss her cheek lightly. She sighs. “Oh my girl. I’m getting you the hell off this fucking planet, I swear it. If it’s the last thing I’ll do. I swear.”

****  
To say things are back to normal between us would be a lie. I’m sitting awake in Carol’s lap sometime late evening the following day. We’ve all been sleeping. Her breath has eased, becoming softer, but I can’t take my eyes off of her.

It’s like every moment, I can see her there in the clink and here. Here isn’t any better, because she’s still hurting. Still running for her life and giving everything for me. And I’m not sure I’m worth it anymore. I reach up and gently trail a finger down the side of her face.

Carol opens her eyes slowly, blinking at me.

“What are you thinking? You know how many times I’ve asked you that?” Her lips curl a little. 

“Sorry. What am I thinking? I’m thinking that I’m utterly selfish.”

“Don’t do this.” She frowns, sitting up and holding tighter to me. “You have no idea, bunny. How could you have known?”

“And I should have said, “no” to you but I never say “no.” And it’s selfish because…because I just take everything--grifter--that I am, and I don’t know anything. And I don’t know what I want. How could I when all I ever do is say “yes” to everything you say.” I turn away from her and feel the tears running down my face.

Carol’s hand strokes the side of my face as she holds it close with her other to her chest.

“I took what you gave willingly. It’s not your fault, Therese.” I sob against her as she holds me tighter, rocking me back and forth as she kisses my cheek softly. “It’s okay, darling…I’m here. I’m here.”

I cling to her, feeling her hands stroke my back and I wonder who the hell I am with or without Carol. She’s like air to me.

“Better?” she whispers. I nod against her, feeling the warmth of her and glad to be right here with her. I nuzzle her neck and kiss it as gently as she’s kissed my cheek.

“I didn’t mean it…”

“What didn’t you mean, darling?” she asks warmly.

“About not knowing what I want.” 

“What do you want, darling? I don’t ever want to force anything on you. We understood the risks…now, I think we truly understand them. Is this…something you still want to pursue?” Her voice hitches.

“I love you, Carol.”

“I know—I love you too, darling.”

“Then, what are you asking?”

“I’m asking you…” She let’s out a sigh. “I’m not really sure what our options are if you don’t want to be with me anymore, but we can and will work something out.”

“Oh shut up, you two,” Gen says. “It’s obvious she’s not going anywhere, Carol.” Carol’s head snaps up to look at the woman in the bed. Rindy sniffs and Trish is wiping tears away as she smacks Gen’s shoulder.

“I refuse to make her. I need her to tell me,” Carol says. “I will never make her do anything.” I grab her face, pulling it to look at me again, so our eyes meet.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I reply. “Where ever you are, I am. No matter where that is. I trust you and love you.” I press my lips to hers and her eyes widen as she hugs me tightly and the others cheer.

“See I told you,” Gen says, grinning. She scoots out of the bed, stretching. “So, what are we going to do? Steal enough money to leave?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Rindy says. “I have a friend who can get me out of town if I can make contact. Can I use some of the cash to make contact?”

“We don’t have a lot left,” Trish says, counting out the clams on the bed between them. I look at Carol and her eyes have narrowed. She eases me off of her.

“You helped Therese. I can give you something small from my account to see you off and you can take the car.”

“You mean, you two are leaving us?” Rindy asks suddenly.

“You have someone to go to and I’m sure you can figure something out, you two. It’s better at this point to go in groups after this anyway.”

“But…you and Therese aren’t a group,” Rindy says. Carol reaches out and strokes my arm.

“She did get us out,” Carol says. “It doesn’t matter how she was made.”

I turn back to Carol.

“If they want to come where we’re going…maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

“No,” Carol snaps. “No one is coming with us.”

The others look at each other surprised.

“It’s okay, Therese,” Rindy says. “She wasn’t in our clink. She doesn’t understand.”

“If anyone could come, it would be Rindy. She’s a doctor. We can use her skills,” Carol says. “But do I trust her? No.”

“Why? Because you were an Outlier detective?” I ask. Carol’s hand on my arm tightens.

“She’s an Outlier detective?” Gen says, shooting up farther. “You traitor—”

“It’s not exactly what you think…” Carol says in a low, dangerous tone. “I removed Outliers like Arnette. If I hated Outliers, you would all be dead now.” She pulls me back slowly. Rindy rolls her eyes.

“We’re not going to hurt Therese, Carol.”

“You’re not, doctor.”

“I won’t either,” Trish says. “This is nuts. We’re not enemies. Gen, don’t be stupid.”

“We don’t know anything about her.”

“We know Therese loves her. That’s all that matters,” Rindy says to the others. “And she’s helping us, or offering to. So it doesn’t matter what she was. It doesn’t matter what we were. We’re Outliers.”

Carol stands up, hand on my shoulder, and frowns.

“We’re going to the bank. Stay put. I’ll pay the next night and you can finish your planning without us,” Carol says. “Come on, Therese.”

***  
Being alone with Carol in a neighborhood like this feels strange. Everything before we went into the clink feels like a dream and everything we’re building now utterly new. The mass of humanity isn’t that different from every other place I’d been in Manhattan. The muck smells the same.

Carol’s frown and glare tells me she’s not happy about our current events, but who would be? We don’t touch and her long strides keep her a few paces ahead of me, but she has a way of pausing so our arms will brush and she’ll know I’m still with her. 

At the bank, she acquires a cred-reader and pulls out some clams for the girls. Then, we stop off at a place to grab some food and she eats her weight in street food, before buying some stuff to take back to the motel.

When we arrive, the others are up and milling around in the room. Rindy looks up at me hopefully and I wonder what she’s thinking.

Carol drops the clams on the bed for them.

“Holy shit…” Gen says stunned. “That’s a lot of cash.”

“You need a chance to start up again and we can’t take you all,” Carol says. “I thought about it more and I will invite Rindy. We’re going to Florida.”

“Florida?” Rindy asks. Carol nods. She frowns. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a third wheel.” Carol let’s out a sigh.

“You will be, but we can use you,” Carol says. “And Therese likes you.” I roll my eyes and my lips twitch.

“Okay,” Rindy says with a shrug. “Why the hell not? My life is gone anyway.” She spins to Trish and Gen, throwing her arms around them. “Good luck. Take all of that and do your best to try something new.”

“We’ll miss you,” Trish says, squeezing her hard. “Thanks for all your help back there.”

“No, thank you,” Rindy says.

“Let’s get out of here,” Gen says. “I’m tired of waiting for things to happen. We’re taking the car and leaving. Good luck and thanks again, Therese.” Gen and Trish hug me on the way out. Carol has gone stiff at that, but allows it.

“Let’s go someplace where I can buy decent clothes and eat a decent meal,” Carol says, pulling at her t-shirt. “I assume you can get us in?”

“With a few clams I can get us anywhere,” I promise and Rindy lifts an eyebrow.

“So can you tell me where, we’re really going?” Rindy asks, crossing her arms. Carol’s eyes shoot up to her as if she’d already forgotten that she’d offered to bring Rindy with us.

“You can come with us to Florida, but the only safe place for Therese and I is off planet. That’s where I’m intending on taking her. My assignment finished the moment I decided to throw my lot in with her.” Carol wraps an arm around me.

“Well then, I offer my services as a doctor and my strength of arm in the meantime,” Rindy says and offers a hand to Carol, who takes it.

“Always look out for Therese first. Getting her off this god-forsaken rock is the only thing that matters now.”

“Hey, I’m right here and we’re all going to make it off. No one gets left behind,” I say roughly. “We all have value at this point, right? We’ve got skills and we have to stick together no matter what.”

Carol frowns at me.

“Oh bunny. That’s not how this world works.”


	12. Hallowed Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well deserved fluffy smut...

Carol’s blue dress and mink coat stir something inside of me. I hum pleased when I see her dressed in something more her speed. She smiles at me, more the panther that she truly is. She dresses me in my usual t-shirt and pants with a trench, but adds the fedora and a scarf to hide my missing hairdo.

There are other clothes: pajamas, a dress, a pant suit, and extra clothes. Carol spares no expense as usual. Rindy looks nice in a pair of pants and a darker blouse.

Then, Carol acquires weapons easily with her clams and she has access to all her prior documents. Forging illegal documents doesn’t seem to be a problem with her as I’m learning with the right amount of clams you can do just about anything you want in this world. She even finds the time to acquire her precious gaspers and immediately starts smoking them as if to make up for lost time.

“I know you are opposed to guns,” she says, looking down at me. “But keep this for self-defense.” She hands me a knife and sheath to hide under my trench.

Next, Carol gives Rindy and me new ID papers. I finger the new documentation and see the word musician on it. My heart thumps again and I wonder what Carol is up too.

“See that hotel, Rindy?” Carol says, pointing to some swanky place in the distance, glittering with a thousand lights. “Get us two rooms, a corner and you beside it. The rooms will be tapped. I will clean them. Before that, get some medical supplies with your new medical ID and don’t forget to order us food when you’re in the hotel.” Rindy shakes her head with a smile, giving a faux salute.

“Yes, ma’am,” she says. Carol’s mouth twitches, but she doesn’t smile. Then, her blue eyes shine like twin lanterns as they fall on me.

“I have something special to do with Therese,” Carol says. Rindy smiles at me and bumps my shoulder.

“See ya later.”

Carol takes my arm and leads me through the different stalls of the commercial district. It’s flashing bright lights like upperside in Manhattan. There’s Chinese symbols, English, and stalls in yellow, blue, and orange. The people underneath are a cacophony of humanity of all colors, selling everything you can think.

Carol pulls me into a larger store front with guitars on display. There’s hundreds all in racks and I wonder what she is doing. I don’t know a lick of guitar. They are pretty though, all colors— crimson, jade, amethyst—like a rainbow.

A man in a suit and suspenders ankles up to us with a bowler cap. He has a brown wiry mustache that twitches every few moments like he’s going to sneeze. His arms open up wide to show us his fine store as he claps, rubbing his hands together.

“Welcome! What can I do you for?” he declares with a wide grin and voice like a showman. “We’ve got all sorts here.”

“My niece plays the saxophone. She’s a professional jazz player.”

“Professional! Well, come on back then. I got just the room for you,” he says with a wink and waves us back to a separate room. I can’t get my glams to move. Carol looks back at me from the door and waggles her finger for me to come hither.

Of course, I can’t say no to Carol. My dogs hesitantly make their way to the door and from floor to ceiling there are so many saxophones. There are crazy colors and materials, and Carol sits down on a stool, popping out a gasper and lighting it.

“Spare no expense, but we want the best. She’ll know,” Carol says, flicking and examining her fingers with a disinterested aire.

The man pulls down a vintage bronze sax. He puts on a selected mouth piece as I wet a wooden reed. I play a little to warm-up and when I feel more comfortable, I belt it out. It’s not as worked in as mine, but I can tell the guy wants to change out the sax for an older one in his hands. Eyes bright and shining with a new sort of excitement. His mustache a’wiggling even faster.

So I take up the one he’s got, something that’s custom and reconditioned. I can tell by the weight and the feel of the metal that’s it’s nice. Much too fine for the likes of me, but I crave to play it anyway. He also replaces my mouthpiece as I change the reed.

I warm up again and the change burns inside of me like a supernova. It’s not Betsy. No, I don’t think there will ever be a sax that can replace her. I don’t know the ins and outs of this fine new creature, but this baby can sing and she can sing like no tomorrow. The soul of me rips out of it, because it’s been so long and so much has happened and there’s so much to tell. It feels like I’m ripping off an old bandage, but the wail that comes out isn’t ugly. It’s transcendent. When I package my soul back into the box and part my lips from the mouth piece, both of them are staring at me like I’ve gone batshit crazy.

“Is that the one, Therese?” Carol asks me, gasper hanging in her lips and a cunning look in her eyes. I look at it and at the man. His cheeks are slightly pink and his mouth is ajar. And for the first time since coming in, his mustache has stopped moving.

“I-I have others, but none like that one. That one is special,” he says and I can tell he means it. “I think that’s the one. For a player like you. I wouldn’t sell her to just anyone.”

“I…I…she’s too good for me,” I murmur and start to hand it back, but Carol catches my wrist.

“We’ll take it and anything else she needs.” Carol stands up. The man takes the instrument from my hand. He packs it into a nice case that still has the velvet and everything I need to care for it and fancy reeds of various sizes. 

Stunned, I stand outside the instrument shop, holding the new case to my chest as if someone’s going to rip it out of my hands. Carol guides me with gentle fingers on my shoulder to the hotel.

Rindy sits on the brown couch in the corner suite eating a ramen-concoction. This room is nothing but dark greens, blacks, and ruby red flowers. It’s supposed to make us feel like we’re in a jungle and it sure does. Even the carpet is a rich dark green with strange geometric patterns in it. The bed in the middle screams colors: mainly blue, yellow, and hints of red. Quite the eyesore in my opinion.

I dart from Carol’s fingers and plop down to start eating. Carol chuckles at me. I’m quite happy to start putting food in my mouth now that we have enough clams to buy decent portions and I’m not sharing with people that eat three or four times as much as me.

She begins to run a sweep of the room and the next. It doesn’t take long and she still seems extremely methodical about it. Not letting anything go missed. Finally, she crosses to the med-bag next to the door between our rooms.

“Did you get the cream?” Carol asks Rindy.

“You betcha,” she replies with a thumbs up. “On the top.”

Carol grabs the tin can and ankles to the bathroom.

“Need help?” I ask and she stops at the door, casting a smile my way.

“Not this time, darling, but thank you. Enjoy the food.”

Rindy nudges my leg and I shrug.

“You guys are sickening,” she teases, waggling her eyebrows. “Thanks for sending a vote my way to come.”

“You can still change your mind. I mean, why do you want to come?” I ask. “Don’t you have a friend?”

“I do, but it’s no guarantee. It was a long shot. You don’t mind, do you? That I’m coming?” I shake my head.

“No, I’m really glad actually.” I look toward the bathroom. “As strong as Carol is…I don’t ever want to see her in one of those places again and if that means having someone we can trust with us. Then, I say let’s do it, but you have to know that this is a long shot too. There’s no guarantees. You know?”

“Well, with an Outlier like her…and a regular jane like you…I don’t know. Anything starts to feel possible.” She shrugs before looking toward my sax and lifting her eyebrows. “So you got your saxophone. She really loves you, doesn’t she?”

“The sax doesn’t say it. Everything else does.”

Rindy shakes her head with a smile.

“I’ll leave you two to it, but I want to hear you play sometime,” she says. I push myself up a little as she grabs another ramen container.

“Leaving so soon?”

“It’ll be nice having a room to myself tonight. Do you think she’d mind if I rent a movie?”

“No, I’ll tell her. Rent as many as you want.”

“Thanks, kid.” I make a face at the kid remark, because she can’t be that much older than me. Grinning, she ducks out of the room.

Carol comes out of the bathroom, having taken a shower and used the cream. Her hair is still damp, casting droplets onto her robe. Her smell hits me immediately and I rise to my feet.

“You feeling okay, bunny?” she asks me as I ankle over there carefully. She grabs my elbows and I’m surprised to see how good her skin looks, nearly brand new like a baby’s. Reaching up, I touch it and it’s so soft. “Go take a shower and I’ll get you something to feel better, okay?”

After a more than warm shower, I find Carol on the bed. I’ve changed into my pajamas too. She has the med-bag next to her and a few items already out.

“I told Rindy she can watch whatever movies she wanted,” I say to get it out of the way.

“She deserves it,” Carol says and waves her hand toward the door. I crawl on top of the dark blue sheets. Carol motions for me to join her and pulls me close to kiss me. Her knuckle strokes down my cheek. She pilfers through the bag. “Now, what hurts, darling? Tell me.”

“Just muscle aches. They didn’t really do any permanent damage,” I say. “Bruises and things.” She pulls out another can of some kind. 

“May I? This will feel very nice,” she says. I nod as she strips me yet again and rubs in the lotion where I have the worst bruising—the yellow and brown sort tinged with green. It rolls over me nicely like the fine oil she use to put on my dogs and has a nice bite to it as it warms up as she rubs it in. I can’t help it when a moan escapes my lips and she chuckles a dark sultry tone, fingers growing playful.

“Carol,” I whine.

“Yes, darling?” Eyes glint with wickedness.

I shift, so I’m closer to her, playing with her robe and I kiss her neck tentatively, before pulling away.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m much better. Thank you,” she murmurs, watching me as if she’s trying to read something complex. “What are you thinking?”

“That I want to make you happy.”

She kisses the top of my head.

“I’m already happy when I’m with you, my bunny.” She trails her finger down my nose to my lips, tracing the outline. I gently lick her finger, pulling it into my mouth to suck on it, and she throws back her head, yellow hair already nearly dry free and perfect. Taking in a deep breath of her scent, I let it roll over me. “Okay…Therese.” She touches my shoulder. “I’m yours. Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want you to make love to me, darling.”

“Show me what you like,” I tell her, kissing her softly.

“I…I don’t know. I’ve never had much of a choice,” she admits in a quiet, nearly shy voice. “Why don’t you just do what feels natural? I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.” I kiss up her jaw and thread my fingers through her hair.

“You’d tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable? If something hurts?” I ask her. “Please, Carol.” Again, there’s that searching look as if she doesn’t quite understand what I’m asking or doesn’t get the rules that I’m laying out. Finally, she nods and her cheeks color a little.

“Okay, I promise, darling,” Carol says gently and strokes the top of my head. A shiver runs through me and I take her fingers and kiss them one by one.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur and begin kissing her again. Tonight, neither of us are dominant. Both of us are equals as we seek to pleasure the other, but slowly I push on downward, along her jaw and the sweet column of her neck.

Removing her robe, I look up to see if she wants me to take off her chemise. She nods with an uncertain look. Instead, I pull down the shoulder straps, so she is still covered somewhat—we can take it slow—working kisses over her collarbone and shoulders.

She moans, a hand over my head.

“Will you undress for me, Therese?” she asks, voice trembling. 

“Of course, Carol.” I sit up and strip off my pajamas as fast as I can with my underthings. Being vulnerable for Carol in this moment is easy after everything we’ve been through. “Better?” I stroke her face as she nods with a hesitant smile I’ve never seen. “I won’t make you.”

“I want this,” she says, taking my hand and moving it down to her full teardrop-shaped breast. My breasts have never been that beautiful or perfect. Mine aren’t even handfuls, but Carol’s…I bend down and try to give her as much as she has given me. 

Moving patiently and slowly, I play her like I do my sax on a sultry night. Soft, gente, languid and with confidence. I move slowly so there is no denying what she’s feeling. There’s ample time for her to tell me no or to stop. I want her to want it so bad she begs me. I don’t want there to be a single doubt in her mind that she wants this from me.

Carol’s body is perfect. She hardly even has scars. In fact, the only scars that she has are the tiny bullet shape holes that are fading away to nothing. Her belly is firm, supple, but she doesn’t have fat, just a perfect sort of curviness in all the right places and her back…is sinewy muscles. I’ve never seen a piece of fine art like her before.

She starts to squirm under my ministrations, hips bucking a little. Her moaning increases as her hand seeks out the top of my head again, fingers grazing along my scalp.

“Darling…Darling…please, I can’t stand it anymore…take me. Fuck me. Please.” Her voice is hoarse as she says this and I feel my lips tug and curl up.

I move farther south, teasing her inner thighs with softer kisses and she pulls away from me, whining. Hands force me toward her hot core. I gladly give her everything she wants until she’s moaning my name. She clinches at the top and I smile at her glowing expression, feeling my cheeks stretch at the unused expression. 

“Therese,” she breathes and drops back down on the bed shifting. “Oh my dear, Therese…No one has ever done me like that before…so soft and glorious. It’s always been so hard and brutal, but you…darling…Oh my bunny. You’re a perfect angel, aren’t you?” She kisses me fiercely as she pulls me back to her level.

“Not once?” I murmur into her lips. “Carol, did they hurt you? Even your love, Virginia?”

“She was a first gen sensual model and me a second, darling…all we knew was rough. I was designed to handle superficial damage even better than her. That’s why I heal so quickly from violence.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When the object you are fucking isn’t considered a living thing…it brings out the inner darkness of a man. They can be quite creative in how they fuck. It brings out the carnal beast in them. It’s not about the sensual model’s pleasure, but for us to bring pleasure to them and men are wicked things—getting hot on violence, force, humiliation, and dominance. A good body is only part of it, Therese. Sensual models are designed to bring the ultimate experience.”

“You’re not an object. And what about Abby? Was she mean too?”

“She was a fierce one in bed. People tend to rise to the occasion with me, bunny. You know how I am. I am not a gentle person. Not like you.” She strokes my cheek. “I’ve never felt so good, so loved. Virginia was the last time I enjoyed the act of love making—if you could call it that—We were two kids playing with matches, even back then. After years of only abuse, I’m not sure we truly understood what lovemaking could be. It was never like it is with you. You’re utterly new. Utterly different than anything I’ve experienced.”

I curl up next to her and pull her close to me.

“You’re so beautiful, Carol. I’m so glad you’re here with me. That I can give this to you. That I can protect you in this way.” She kisses me fiercely. “No…this is about you.” I break our kiss. “Do you want me to do it again or cuddle?”

Her eyes are watery when she gazes at me. She scoots up against the cushion backing of the bed, gathering the pillows around us. She drags me up against her, wrapping my arms around me as she kisses my cheek.

“Cuddles, it is then.” I smile again.

“Your smile is beautiful, Therese. You never smile. And look at those dimples.” I look away, cheeks lighting crimson down to my chest. She sighs underneath me.

“I guess, I never had a reason until you.” My eyes find hers again.

“Oh,” she whispers and I turn to straddle her waist. Her arms still around mine. I look up at her and kiss her jaw. She inclines her head so we can start kissing again, slow and undemanding. Finally, I slip down and rest my head against neck, breathing in her glorious scent. “I love you, angel mine.” Her hands trail up and down my back. “I would give you anything in the galaxy.”

“You have,” I whisper. “You will. I’ve spent my life alone until you showed up. No one truly cared about me until you saw me.” Her hand cusps the back of my head.

“My darling, I’ve been alone for ever so long myself,” she whispers. “No one has been able to know my true identity. My brother was the last to know.”

I nuzzle and kiss her neck.

“I love you, Carol.”

She gasps as if it’s some surprise.

“Carol…I do.” I pull away to meet her eyes.

“I don’t know how I could still deserve such a gift.” She’s crying again and that breaks my heart, but Carol doesn’t seem like a natural crier. I stroke them away, hands running through her hair as I pull her head against me.

“Shhh, none of that, sweet heart,” I say. “I’m just an old grifter that you’ve stolen the heart of. Just a regular jane.”

She shakes her head.

“Not my Therese, no. She’s no regular jane. Not my bunny girl.” Her lips are heated and passionate again. “Please, let me make love to you, darling.”

“Are you ready to go again?” I ask her and she nods. It surprises me that she gives in so easy, pulling away so she is lain bare again for my eyes to feast on—vulnerable to the fine tunings of my fingers. As I seek out the places I had discovered to produce the melodic sounds I so desire, to recreate that epiphany that is, purely Carol.

“By the heavens!” she says, breathing hard as I lay on top of her. I keep gently kissing her collarbone, licking the hollow as she mewls weakly in the throes of orgasm. “You’re delicious, darling. I’m afraid…I can’t wait any longer.” That low voice screams danger in the back of my mind as she easily flips me over against the bed.

“Oof, Carol!” I whine. She chuckles.

“Did I hurt you, darling?”

“No, but I told you—” 

She places her finger over my lips. I bring it to my teeth again.

“Mmm…but you’re not the one in charge though…not really, Therese,” she purrs gently into my ear. “I’ve allowed you this fun dalliance, but my bunny needs some affection.” She strokes down my chin, neck, chest, and belly, circling my belly button.

“It’s your night.”

“It’s our night, darling-mine, and I’ve so missed the taste of you. It is the most divine gift,” she says as she nibbles my earlobe, whispering her sweet nothings. “Please, darling…please let me devour you for old time’s sake. I want you. Don’t torture me another moment longer. I want you, Therese.”

“Carol…I’m yours. You don’t have to ask.” I stroke her face as she dives into the main course and as usual she is nothing but fierce. Perhaps more so that she’s been held back from me. Her teeth, tongue, lips, and fingers find every nook and cranny that makes me moan, pant, and scream Carol and she does it repeatedly in short session until I’m stripped to nothing but pleasure.

Waking up in her arms as she gently rubs tenderly against limp muscles stirs me. She is humming a song, I’ve never heard before as she rocks me. “Bunny,” she whispers. “My bunny has come back to me. I so missed you.” She steals a soft kiss.

“You…” I smile at her and she smiles, a sated smile, back to me. I wrap myself in Carol, pressing my face to her chest, luxuriating in the feel of her silky smooth skin, her warmth, and the presence that she is. Her head tucks against mine, hands wrapping around me and pulling me tighter against her as if she only longs to make us one flesh. “Love you.”

“I know.” She kisses my cheek. “Sleep now, bunny. Sleep and dream of good things for me.” 

I’m sure I’ll be too tired for much else.

***  
The night brings me into the clink. I scream against her, beat against her, but she doesn’t let go. It doesn’t matter how hard I fight, Carol breathes soft words into my ear, stroking my side until I’ve become sane again, whimpering against her. Tears streak down my face.

“Did I hurt you?” I ask and she shakes her head with a sad little smile.

“Never. I’m here for you, my love.”

I shut my eyes and tremble against her.

“I don’t…it was terrible. They kept hurting you and I couldn’t stop them.”

“But you saved me, darling. You got me out of that terrible place.”

“I’m so scared.”

“Shhh. It’s okay to be scared,” she murmurs. “I’m here.” She kisses my temple hard, pulls me tighter against her.

My body is pressed entirely to hers while I’m facing her. Her strong limbs box me into a soft cuddle. Her legs wrap around mine and my arms press against her chest as my face tucks underneath her chin. I can smell her overpowering scent, glorious and truly my Carol. I can feel the thud of her strong heart and the constant comfort of her breathing, expanding her chest, but also rolling over the top of my head.

“I’m sorry, I woke you.”

“Not a problem, dear. I don’t require much sleep.”

“You’re just laying here with me?”

“It is a pleasant hobby. Probably the most relaxing one I have,” she purrs. I snort against her and her fingers playfully dig into my side.

“Carol, I’m comfortable here!”

“Oh, fine, darling.” I can almost hear her pout as she kisses my forehead and shifts me back into position. “Do you want to talk about it more?”

“No…” I whisper, tracing my fingers along her chest.

“Beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Will you sing that song again?” I ask. “It was nice.”

“Therese. I’m not much of a singer.”

“You’re beautiful. Please?”

She let’s out an exasperated sigh and slowly hums the song she was singing before. Then, the words come. It’s a bit melancholy, but her voice is something else, nearly ethereal. I find my eyelids growing heavy again as I sink back into a more comfortable slumber, safe in Carol’s arms.

_I hurt myself today_  
To see if I still feel pain  
I focus on the pain  
The only thing that’s real 

_The needle tears a hole_  
The old familiar sting  
Try to kill it all away  
But I remember everything 

_What have I become_  
My sweetest friend  
Everyone I know  
Goes away in the end 

_And you could have it all_  
My empire of dirt  
I will let you down  
I will make you hurt 

_I wear this crown of thorns_  
Upon my liars chair  
Full of broken thoughts  
I cannot repair 

_Beneath the stains of time_  
The feelings disappear  
You are someone else  
I am still right here 

_What have I become_  
My sweetest friend  
Everyone I know  
Goes away in the end 

_And you could have it all_  
My empire of dirt  
I will let you down  
I will make you hurt 

_If I could start again_  
A million miles away  
I will keep myself  
I would find away… 


	13. My Darling, Bunny Girl

That morning, we eat another meal and everyone is in much better spirits, especially Carol.

“Did you watch anything good, Rindy?” she asks, almost hesitantly. Rindy looks up surprised Carol is even talking to her.

“Oh,” she says, blushing and rubbing the back of her head. “Just junk…I’m really into horror and blood. You’d think I see enough of that as an EMT, but no…I’m obsessed with a cheesy hack-in-slash.” Carol shakes her head.

“That’s abhorrent. Absolutely no class,” she says and when Rindy’s eyes widen she shrugs. “To each their own, I suppose. I wanted to apologize for my recent behavior. I haven’t been exactly friendly. Usually I am in a better place to help people like us adjust into the world, but I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a rather vulnerable position.” 

“No, I totally get it. Meeting in a clink is not a great way to make friends,” Rindy says. “I appreciate it though. Really. Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“We do need you, Rindy. I thought I could get Therese to the space port by myself, but…maybe, I can’t.” Carol frowns at this. Rindy reaches across the way and pats her shoulder.

“We’ll do our best. That’s all we can do. It’s a shot and that’s all we can ask for at this point,” Rindy says.

“How long have you known that you were different?” Carol asks, leaning back and stretching out with her gasper. She manages to look both relaxed and dangerous.

“About two years…I was so busy as an EMT that it didn’t really change much—the knowing. I guess, I got lax after a while and someone turned me in for not sleeping three days in a row during a code black. I just lost track of time…It was stupid, but I didn’t know any other Outliers, so I forgot after awhile…that I was different.”

“That happens more than you know,” Carol says, puffing out smoke.

“So…is it that different being one of the originals? Made off planet?”

“Yes.” Carol states this as a fact and at first I don’t think she’s going to answer Rindy, but then she sits up with a frown and a sigh. “We’re designed better. The repressed are mass produced and so you never know what you are going to get trait wise. You might have someone with multiple traits of an Outlier or just one. That would be considered a flaw off world. If a company created you and you didn’t meet the full specs of the original design that’s how a model would be decommissioned immediately.”

“Oh…”

“So you have endurance…have you noticed any other traits?”

“Edenic memory and I’m stronger than the average female, but not overly strong. I don’t think I’m as strong as you. I don’t think I could’ve survived what they did to you in the facility.” Carol shakes her head.

“I survived because they had an idea of what I could endure from my original specs. They had every intention of eventually killing me to test the edges of that. Now that you have me, I can help you create a protocol when you are among humans. I live by some basic rules when I interact with them. First, I strive not to hurt anyone physically with extreme prejudice. That cuts down on a lot incidences, even if it means minor injuries to myself.”

“I can see that.”

“I imagine that’s why you have been safe for so long. If I do hurt a human, I choose a specific way to do it.”

“Like what you did with Harge and his wrist?” I ask. She nods.

“Yes, I tell people it’s a type of martial arts and the use of pressure points, so that when I break a man’s wrist or a finger by what looks like a mere touch…it becomes believable.”

“Wow. That’s pretty intense. You can break a man’s wrist that easily?” Rindy frowns at this.

“I only do it for two reasons: To protect someone else or in the rare incident when I need to defend myself. The second rule is do nothing that brings attention to yourself.”

“Like staying up for three days straight and not acting tired.”

“Exactly. This could be becoming the national chess champion, defeat all the opponents in the arena…try not to be the best at anything.”

“But Carol, you always say you’re the best Outlier detective,” I say and she looks down at me with a frown.

“I guess, I broke my own rule,” she says with a shrug. “In my defense, I think I’m allowed after all this time. They’re guidelines really, Therese.” She gives me a wink. “And it’s taken me this long to be caught.”

“And it was technically my fault,” I say, lips tightening. She tsks, rises to her feet and squeezes my shoulder.

“It will always be worth it, Therese. I knew what I was doing. I knew all the risks and I chose this life with you,” she says and steadily looks at me with a look that says something complex: warm and sharp. “I’d rather live this life with you than continue living my life alone and against the grain.”

She slides down in the chair next to me and I scoot over to accommodate her as she wraps her arms around me. Her lips seek out mine and Rindy groans.

“So what are we doing today? Leaving town?”

Carol looks up with a smile.

“I suppose we must, but we need a vehicle first. Let’s close up shop here and I’ll have you buy rations while I get a better vehicle. We’ll need something better than my old car.”

“What are you going to do? Buy a tank this time?” I ask her and she laughs. My heart flickers at it, because it’s been so long since I’ve heard that full laugh of hers. I pull myself to her as close as I can get and her hand grows protective and soothing on my back.

“To protect you? Perhaps. You are much too valuable to risk losing again.”

“Where did you get all this money anyway?” Rindy asks. I look up at Carol, because that’s something I haven’t had the courage to ask. Talking about clams isn’t something you do on lowerside unless it’s theory on how to get more.

“Oh, I made a lot as an Outlier detective. It’s a dangerous position after all and it’s hard to find people willing to fill the position. Then, there are certain investments that I have off world. I’ve had years to build up quite a nest egg and develop my tastes for the finer things,” Carol says this as casual as can be with a shrug.

“Outlier’s can do that off world?” Rindy asks.

“My group could. After the war, we were given our own planet to terraform and awarded a settlement. We were given rights to live in freedom and participate in the galactic economy. I’m afraid I don’t know the current state of things since coming to earth.”

“For your assignment?” I ask her. She nods and strokes my face.

“I tried to find a life out there without Virginia, darling, and I couldn’t. So I took an assignment on earth. The assumption would be that I would die here, uncovering and helping Outliers survive. To aid in a movement for Outliers’ civil rights as peacefully as I could until the opportune time came…if it came.” Her eyes are stormy again, but there is a sadness to her. “I worked for years to that end and I lost myself a little in it. I killed the insane Outliers and helped who I could, but I never thought I’d return.”

“Until me…what are you going to do when you get back?”

“I don’t know, Therese. My group may not even exist anymore. I went into a complete communication lockdown when I came to earth. After the war, earth only accepted supplies in fear of gaining more Outliers. The general population doesn’t receive updates on what is happening in the galaxy thanks to Sovereign. The intranet is not connected to the Broad Galatic Net that was in existence when I left.”

“Oh,” I say, because that’s more information than I had a clue about.

“So you guys won the Rebellion? I heard you lost,” Rindy says. Carol shrugs.

“Both sides lost in the end. We both accrued enough casualties that a peace treaty and settlement was reached. Even in my time it was shaky at best, especially since new models continued to be made.”

“So it wasn’t a true freedom, only for those who fought for it?” Rindy asks and Carol nods.

“We were strictly forbidden to communicate with other Outliers in the galaxy which is why a handful of us snuck into earth. I’m sure there were other undercover agents who went back into their old lifestyles, but that wasn’t an option for me.”

I stroke her arm and she smiles down at me, gripping my face.

“And that was?”

“I was a soldier and that’s all you need to know, Rindy,” Carol snaps. “For now.” Rindy straightens.

I get why Carol doesn’t want to tell her about why she was created and she’s not really lying either, because she was a soldier in the rebellion. Carol is everything. I look up at her and again, she has that look of yearning in her eyes edged with the hunger that wishes to devour me.

“Yes, sorry. It’s all just so interesting.”

“Let’s go get that car. Meet us in an hour in front this hotel,” Carol says, grabbing both her and my bag. “You can carry your sax. Have you named it yet?”

“Rosa,” I murmur. She smiles and strokes my cheek again.

“Lovely, darling.”

Rindy goes to get her bag and we all leave together. I follow after Carol which has become a normal. She knows where she is going or at least it seems like she does once she’s back in the market place. She asks around a bit, before we end up in an underground parking lot with a vehicles where joes and janes are making custom vehicles.

A large olive skinned man with tattoos approaches us with a huge welding helmet on his head.

“Hey, kinda fancy for my shop, aren’t you?” he asks, but she flashes him her badge.

“I need a good undercover vehicle with all the bells and whistles. What can you show me?” she asks all business. His eyes go wide. “I’ll pay for it and I need it as is. I’m buying…today in cash.”

“Shit,” he says. “Come on…Let me show you.” He ankles to a cranky elevate that leads us down several floors, where he uses a key to open up the last door. “All right these are some of my personal customs. They offer an array of heavy defenses such as shielding and stealth, while others are heavy on the guns and slower.”

“I’m in the market for stealth, extremely fast and highly defensive.”

“If you could have one or the other….stealth or defense what would you want?”

“Defense.”

“Here…these are what I recommend…” He stops in front of a group of five different vehicles and starts talking tech babble to Carol, who eats it up like candy. She sits in a few and she’s allowed to test drive them in the limited area of the garage, before she picks a black one that looks like it could fit in lowerside okay if need be. She pays a ton of clams for it and when I sit inside I see why.

This has a burgundy vintage steering wheel and stick like Carol’s old breezer, but it also has a whole computer system behind that too. It all operates via a panel. The front seat is two bucket seats with a bench seat in the back. There is a smaller trunk space since the bells and whistles require more engine and space to run. She drops the top like her old car since there isn’t in fallout today and I’m glad, because I like the feel of the wind in my hair.

Carol manages this cage as well as her last. She goes to pick up Rindy, who walks up to the driver seat.

“I could drive. It’s the least I can do. I’m terrible at just sitting still.” Carol looks over at me, before nodding. 

She waggles a finger at me to get in the back with her. Then, we cuddle up as Rindy puts the breezer in gear and flies out to the destination that Carol has already plotted.

“You seem better with Rindy,” I say. She shrugs.

“Until she proves otherwise all I can do is watch her. She can’t mess with the car too much. I’ve already programmed a lot into in the short time we were in the garage.”

“You’re always ten steps ahead, aren’t you?”

She kisses the top of my head, squeezing me tightly.

“I try to be, bunny, for your sake.”

The drive is long just like the last one. Carol wraps me in a blanket and cuddles me close to keep me warm, even though this breezer is distinctly warmer than her last. I assume it wasn’t high priority for her, for obvious reasons, but the regular joe who designed this one felt like warmth was important. I’m glad for that.

I stare up into her porcelain serious face, her pillared neck, and stormy blue eyes. Her hair curls perfectly and her skin is still soft and new. She’s majestic, ethereal, but hardly vulnerable here and now. The pain of so many things stand as barriers on her soft skin. Her upbringing, the rebellion, her life on earth, and now our time in the clink and I wonder if I can possibly, truly breach all those things.

I kiss her knuckles, pressing my lips against the velvet unbroken skin. Her fingers stroke over the top of my head, through the fine hair that is slowly growing out, sending chills down my spine.

“Bunny, what are you thinking?”

“…a thousand things,” I whisper. I keep kissing her knuckles.

“Therese…”

“Nothing you want to talk about now. I’m just thinking about you…everything you’ve been through and how much I love you.” She bends down and kisses me chastely. Her eyes meet mine and I feel the warmth of her smokey breath.

“I love you too…we’ve been through a lot…you and I in a short time, but there is no guarantee that it is over. I swear…I will always fight to keep you safe.”

“I know, Carol.”

“If I could…I’d promise—”

“Don’t. I know.”

She nuzzles my forehead before pulling away. Her hand goes to her mouth and I can tell she is upset. I pull myself up and cuddle her closer.

“You’re not a god, Carol. You may be nearly perfect, but you aren’t. You can’t completely protect me and I know this,” I say, stroking her hair from her face. She gives me a weak smile. “It’s okay…because…at least I have you. Before I didn’t have you and that life…it wasn’t worth having.” She kisses me again.

“I wish…”

“I know.”

She sniffs and pulls away again, pulling me tight against her.

“At least I have you,” she replies, staring out the window, fingers lazily circling my arm. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her, bringing a light smile to her face despite the sadness that is looming about her.

***  
In and out, I wake up in the car. Sometimes to eat, sometimes to listen to the gentle banter between the two women. Carol always offering incite to Rindy about living with regular joes and janes or talking about being an original. 

When I wake up to the rain hitting the car and slight turbulence I know we must be in Florida. Then we must reach an area with catchers, because Carol tells her to put the top back down and suddenly as we are flying the top slides away and we’re suddenly back in a breezer in the warm humid air. It’s not cold at all like up north.

I peer out and see the city lights below us. A stretch of coast where Orlando sprawls. We land at a hotel, pressed against the murky coast also covered in the strange blue and red algae, sitting heavily on the water. 

In a room, Carol works on a portable computer distracted as Rindy sleeps on the couch after driving so much.

This room has strange white swirls that comes from the ceilings and a huge chandelier that lights up like orange flames. The bed is circular shaped and has burgundy silk fabric. The walls are darkly lit, green and blue. The floor is some of shaggy carpet. There’s a few couches dark aquamarine blue. Rindy has her own room again, but she has chosen to stay for a bit for the food and for the company as Carol cleans the rooms.

I prepare the food as she rests and as Carol works. Carol joins us later, plopping down on the couch between us and stretching her legs across the enigmatically shaped table, kicking off her high heels. 

I love the way her lean glams look wrapped in a pair of panty-hose. I don’t know why. It makes her look all high-roller and the feel…I shiver a little, imagining the texture and the heat of her leg—if Rindy wasn’t here—and she tucks her arm around me, thinking I am cold or wanting her touch. I nuzzle her neck and take in the scent of her. I can’t wait to taste her again.

“Mmm, darling…” she purrs as she acquires one of the ramen containers, placing it in her lap, and attacks it with chop sticks. I’m already half-way finished with mine and give her the rest despite the protest. I curl up next to her in a tight ball, feeling warm, full, and loved.

“You guys are sickening,” Rindy says with an amused smile which Carol smacks her shoulder gently with a wicked gleam to her eyes. Rindy has a thicker build than Carol, even if she isn’t stronger. Her shoulders are wider and waist narrower. She has the look of a woman who once worked out before everything went down in the clink.

“You have to deal with it,” Carol says. “Thanks for driving…you did well. You do have quite the endurance. Are you tired at all?”

“I could probably stay up another few days, but yes…I do feel tired now. It’s kind of like a growing static in the back of my mind. I can ignore it, but it’ll get worse. It gets worse when I’m not doing something.”

“Is that why you struggle with sitting still?” Carol asks. Rindy nods.

“Even when I’m not working it’s hard for me to just stay in my apartment. I do workouts, hang out with friends. The only time I ever stayed in the apartment was to sleep or eat a larger meal when I did a lot of work.”

“That’s curious,” Carol says thoughtfully. “I’ve not encountered a case like yours, but the repressed are each different. It sounds like quite the glitch to be honest. Would you consider it both a problem and a blessing then?”

“Yes,” Rindy says with a frown. “Even before the clink…sometimes I just want to sit still and watch something or relax and I can’t. I just have to move. Like I don’t know what I’m going to do tonight.”

“You don’t have to stay in the hotel with us…” Carol says. “There’s plenty to see.”

“I’ll need to sleep a little, but yeah…I might have to take a tranquilizer. I’m energetic from sitting down, but mentally tired from staying awake for several days.”

“Hm…let’s work on a solution once you’ve settled and slept. Things will feel better after that,” Carol says with a nod. “I want to make sure you are placed well after we leave planet.” Rindy’s eyes open wider.

“You’re going to help me after we leave planet?” she asks in a tiny voice. Carol reaches out and squeezes her shoulder.

“Of course, dear. It was apart of my assignment and I’m not typically one to abandon things. I take my job very seriously about improving the civil rights and living conditions of my people. It’s not something I’m going to abandon. Does that bother you, Therese?” She looks down at me and I shake my head.

“No…it’s one of the things I admire about you,” I murmur. She bends down to kiss my temple. “You’ve taught me so much about people…”

“As have you, my darling…I admit, I had lost hope that a regular jane or joe could appreciate one of my kind, let alone love them as you do. That is why I had to keep you. You’re special.” 

I smile up at her and feel the strain on my cheeks. She bends down to kiss me again as if she can’t help it. Then, she kisses where my dimple is.

“I love those dimples. I hope you have more and more reasons to smile, my darling bunny. You rarely smile, even for me.” I snuggle deeper into her side and sigh, tracing my finger along the designs in her skirt.

“I know…It’s just…there’s not always a good reason. I use to just smile to get what I want. It’s weird to smile in lowerside. There’s just no reason too.” My eyes drift up to hers and she strokes me my cheek.

“I know, darling. I hope that changes for you. I truly do.”

“Is it that bad? I’ve heard it was bad, but you never know what’s true or not with the media and such,” Rindy asks.

“It’s bad,” Carol assures her. “Much worse than what the government would ever admit. That’s why you have to have special permits to enter lowerside in places like this or the slums in Nashville. It’s even worse in city limits and out in the wastelands.”

“I knew that, but do people even live there?” Rindy asks.

“Of course they do,” Carol says. “That’s how we were caught, by raiders. They resort to whatever means necessary to survive, even cannibalism apparently.” I shutter, remembering the threat of the raider to take an arm or leg. Carol’s arm tightens around me as she swallows. “Shh…” She sets aside her ramen and pulls me into her lap. I hadn’t even realized I had began to shake harder. The image of the raider refusing to leave my mind. Her arms tighten around me as she strokes my back.

“I’m going to head to my room now. I’ll meet you for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Feel free to explore the city,” Carol says. “You’re not a prisoner here.”

“Thanks.”

She slips away and Carol picks me up.

“Let’s take that bath together. They have a nice tub in the bathroom,” she says in a soft, warm voice that slides over my skin like a blanket.

“The food will get cold.”

“I can reheat it. You’re more important.”

“I’m fine,” I lie and I see her lips tighten as she makes a noise in the back of her throat.

“I know when you’re fine or not, bunny,” she says and sets me on the toilet. She starts the water in the tub, making sure it is super hot like she likes it. The bathroom is dark like the rest of the suite. The tub a glistening blue and strangely shaped, but deep enough for both of us. It’s more like a tiny swimming pool with jets.

She unbuttons her suit jacket and folds it onto the counter. Then, she pulls out her pink button-up and unbuttons it.

“Carol, are you sure?” I ask her and she looks down at me. Her hand snakes to my cheek again and her thumb strokes it there.

“You are so sweet, darling,” she says. “Yes. I trust you…more than anyone I have ever met with this body of mine.” She pulls off her shirt. Then, she removes her bra. Her skirt falls to the floor next and she folds perfectly at the waist to lift and put it on the counter. Then, she rolls off her panty hose and underthings. My eyes glide over the perfect lithe body, glistening in the ambient lightening and the flicker of fake candles against the nuances of her muscular yet curvy flesh.

Swallowing, my chest tightens and tears gather in my eyes. I don’t ever want to take moments like these for granted. These easy moments where we are safe and unhurt. Where Carol is free to be herself and vulnerable.

“What is it, darling?” she asks, bending down next to me and blue eyes pooling into mine with concern.

“I’m just thinking…how lucky I am,” I say, sliding my arms around her neck. “That we can have moments like this. I love you Carol.” She accepts a kiss from me that deepens gently and with light heat that washes over the both of us as my hand glides down her back. The muscles shift under my fingers and her eyes close as she pulls me tighter against her, breast pressing against mine.

“I love you too, Therese,” she says in a husky voice. “My angel. Do you need help undressing?”

“Just my shirt,” I admit as she helps pulls it off with my bra. I stand up and slide off my pants and underthings and watch as she slides gracefully into the deep tub. She offers me a hand and I swallow again as I cross to take it. Her long fingers take mine.

We sink down into the heated water as she turns off the faucet with a button. Her arms sliding around me as we both sink into the warmth. Tension ebbs from me with shocking fluidity and speed.

“Better?” she asks, chin over my shoulder and nose tickling my neck.

“Mm-hm,” I manage. “It’s glorious.”

“I thought you needed a change in scenery. I know it’s hard when you have terrible memories. They like to stay and torment us, but I want you to know that I will always be here.”

“Do you have bad memories that don’t leave?”

“They’ve faded for the most part. They don’t torment me as they once did,” she says. “The memories from the facility bother me at night like they do for you, because it’s so fresh. It will take some time for us to distance ourselves from them. They aren’t real though. I can teach you techniques to help.”

“Yes…please.” I nuzzle into her, loving the velvet feel of skin and the smell of her. “You’re so beautiful…do you really know that?” I turn in her arms, tucking my legs around her waist and down her thighs, meeting her eyes. “Do you, Carol?”

Her eyes slide to mine and capture them, soft and affectionate as she strokes through the shaved hair along the side of my head..

“Not the way you mean it, bunny. You see something entirely different than anyone else has, I think.” I tuck my forehead against hers.

“Because they haven’t really seen you.” I kiss her nose and her lips soften into a gentle smile. I smile at her, knowing without a doubt—having asked no one—that this could not have been more right or perfect. Her arms tighten around my waist.

“Oh what shall I do with my sweet, little bunny?” she says, a hint of wonder and awe reflected in her voice as she looks up into my eyes. “You simply amaze me.”

My hands take the sides of her face as my lips hungrily meet hers.

“Mine?” I ask her gently and feel her smile against me.

“Yours, my darling bunny girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well--I'm only a chapter ahead of myself. My trip caught me up since I didn't have as much time to write as I suspected. I'm getting the sense that we're almost to the end too. I imagine 2-3 more chapters at most. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading this weird little fic and for all your amazing comments! You guys are truly amazing. :)


	14. Flung Out of Space

The following day I spend with Rindy even though Carol doesn’t like it. She has to go to space port to see if she can work out a way to sneak the three of us off planet and it will be easier to do it without me in tow, she admits. As it’s not entirely legal for for citizens to leave the planet since it goes against Sovereign’s wishes.

So Rindy and I ankle down to the markets. Carol has given me an extra credit chip reader so I can purchase anything we want. We don’t buy hardly anything though except street food. The markets here are different from the others in minor ways. There’s a lot more mini-crocodiles in the animal stalls and I don’t see any mini-elephants. Plus, people aren’t allowed to smoke in this sector.

We take a drink in dark bar as people take phanta and use those VR things. Rindy rolls her eyes when I point it out.

“You can get addicted to those too. I’ve seen people come in to the ER emaciated from not eating or sleeping because they forgot which world they were in and weren’t taking care of their body.”

“That’s…I can’t even imagine.”

“All their wealth is in some fictional land and they want to spend all their time there. People have been found dead in their apartments covered in their own filth, because you can get drugs pumped into you so that you can literally taste and feel everything in the VR realm and not feel what’s going on in the real world. It’s expensive as hell, but some people prefer it to this world.”

I shake my head and wonder what would lead someone to do that. Even life in lowerside is worth living, right?

Rindy and I watch a movie after not hearing from Carol. This one is a horror flick since Rindy can’t sit through anything boring. I have to keep my eyes closed through most of it and Rindy laughs at me, whispering during the worst parts to keep me distracted.

We arrive back to the hotel late and Carol still isn’t back yet or has made contact.

“Do you think, she is okay?” I ask Rindy. She glances at me and picks up the burner phone in her pocket, flipping it a few times. She calls out again, but doesn’t get an answer.

“Let’s get everything ready just in case we have to leave fast,” she says with a frown. “I don’t like this.”

“Me neither.”

***  
I rest fitfully the rest of the night. Rindy stays on the couch as we wait. Rindy tries to convince me to sleep, but it’s no use. Something’s wrong. Carol isn’t back.

In the predawn light, we take a cab with our gear in tow to the docks. We have plenty of money to fly around until we find the cage. It sits forlorn several streets away. 

Running towards it, I peak inside and knock on the pitch black windows. The door flies open and Carol grabs me hard, pulling me into the car.

“Bunny,” she whispers hoarsely. I pull back and see dried blood on her lip and bruises along her face. My heart thumps hard in my chest.

“Carol, what happened?”

“I couldn’t go back to the hotel—”

“Pop the trunk,” Rindy calls, giving the back a thump, and since I’m closest I reach to the front seat and hit the button on the dash.

“They’d follow me back to you and I couldn’t risk it,” she says. “I didn’t know what to do until I took care of them…”

“Who?” Rindy asks, sliding into the front seat and locking up again.

“There were five Outlier detectives tracking Therese and I. Now there’s four, but…” She shutters. “I barely got away the first time.”

I stroke her hair from her face and she kisses me, wincing as the cut on her lip threatens to break.

“Shhh,” I whisper. She smiles at me, careful not to pull on that cut too much.

“I’m fine. This will heal quick enough. They didn’t hurt me. Not really.” She tries to assure me, but I know it has to hurt, even if it doesn’t damage in the same way. I stroke the side of her face and kiss her jaw line.

“Did you manage to get us a way off planet before they started bothering you?” Rindy asks. Carol sighs and nods.

“We have arrangements for later tonight. Now that you’re here, we have a better shot of making it out, but—” Her eyes fall on me. “We’re also a little more vulnerable now too.” Her arms tighten around me protectively. I rest my head on her shoulder.

I don’t want to make them more vulnerable, but I don’t know what to say. She’s right. I’m not as fast or smart as them. Sure, I can pop a lock and hack things, but I can’t fight an Outlier bull.

“I don’t know, Carol…I’d say she’s only been an asset so far,” Rindy says. I give her an appreciative smile from Carol’s shoulder.

Something pops and the dash of the car flickers and dies.

“Damn it,” Carol growls. “They were waiting for this.”

“Waiting for what?” I ask and another pop, something metal rolling along the cobblestones, and suddenly the cab is filling with smoke.

“Get out,” Carol says and shoves me against the door. “Rindy!” Her guns are out again as she uses her body to protect me. Then, I hear the bullets ricocheting off the car from an unseen angle. “Stay down!” Carol commands as she leads us into a back alley. “Back to the dock.”

“How did they shut down the car?” Rindy demands.

“They have some sort of techie—who can hack it. She hacked the security system at the dock too. Had me blocked in with crates for a second, but I climbed out.”

A man drops from a fire escape with a grimace. Arms in a metal contraptions and thick padding on his chest.

“I see you got your little girlfriend,” he says with a cruel smile. “It’s time to end this charade, Carol. If you come with us willingly you won’t die.”

“Fuck you,” Carol snaps. “I told you I’m an Outlier Detective.”

“Hanging out with your perp? Killing another detective like a damn Outlier. Sounds like you went native.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me—”

His gun flashes out, going off and she slams me down to the cobble stone, before becoming a blur—her guns firing—and they slam against each other.

Guns fly in opposite directions as Carol momentarily struggles against him. Something about those metal contraptions have increased his strength, but suddenly Carol has gained the upper hand as the left metal arm snaps and pops and his arm twists back in an ungodly angle. A mangled scream escapes his lips as she slams her fist down into his skull with a crack.

From above another gun goes off and hits her arm from the back, blood splattering as two shadowy forms appear behind us. Rindy shifts to me, lowering herself carefully.

There is a woman in a trench and a man in a bomber jacket, looking like first class high-rollers just like Carol. Rindy frowns.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says. “I’m an EMT.”

“That makes our job a lot easier,” says the woman in a chilly voice. “You’re still coming in as potential Outliers.”

“I’m not going back,” Rindy says in a dark voice. “Please…stay back. What you—they do—it’s unethical.” She keeps me blocked near the wall so the person from above can’t shoot us and Carol skulks back to us, holding her bleeding shoulder and looking like a wounded panther.

“That’s the dangerous one, careful,” the man points out and trains a gun on Carol. “Did you see how she snapped his arm like a toothpick?”

“I’ll die before you touch them,” Carol snarls at them. “You filthy monsters.”

“We’re just doing our jobs, miss. All you have to do is obey the law and come in for testing.” It sounds perfectly logical, but I doubt they even know what hell they’d be putting us in…or maybe they do. Carol knew. Carol moves closer to Rindy and me before sliding in front of us. She rises to her full height and I can only imagine the baleful look she is throwing at them.

I grab her hand, but she doesn’t look down at me. I don’t want her to die. Not like this… _please_ , not like this.

“You think you can kill me before I kill you,” Carol says in a low voice. A shiver runs down my spine. “I’m the best there is for good reason.” Her voice drips with venom. “I will never let you have her.”

They look at each other and in that instant both Carol and Rindy move in unison. Before the bulls have a chance to look back Carol hits them both, knocking them off their dogs. The gun showers bullets from above. Rindy hits the woman next and pounds her fist into her stomach. I shut my eyes as blood starts to fly from the bullets and then, it suddenly stops.

When I open my eyes again, Rindy is in Carol’s arms as she pulls her back against the wall to safety. She slides a gun in my shaking hand as Rindy plops down on her bottom, panting and blood running down her mouth. Teeth stained crimson when she grimaces in pain, gripping her bleeding side.

“I have to get the medkit and finish off the last one,” Carol says, eyes full of worry and concern. “Make sure she doesn’t bleed out.”

“What about you?” I plead. She smiles, strokes my cheek, and gives me a wink. Then, she takes a passionate kiss from me.

“I’m fine, bunny. I’ll always find you,” she says. “Promise.”

She slips away in the direction of the car. Then, I spot it, a drone of some sort as it drifts down into the alley. Rindy tries to get up, but staggers and I throw myself on top of her—aiming the gun, but the drone fires first.

The pain slices through me as my own gun goes off. One, two—three shots before it sparks and splatters to the ground.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The fire lances through me as Rindy shifts me down into her lap and presses against the wound.

“Idiot,” she snarls at me. “I could handle that better than you.” 

“It’s not bad…just a shoulder scrape,” I whisper, eyes smashed shut against the pain. “They were aiming for you.” She shakes her head.

“Carol will kill me if something happens to you.”

Suddenly, a dark form falls from the roof, hits the fire escape willy-nilly, and smacks in a sickening way on the cobble stone. I pull away from Rindy to gag and upchuck.

“Got the last of ‘em! Meet me at the car if you can,” Carol calls from the roof. I roll my eyes, wiping my mouth, as Rindy actually finds the strength to snicker. She slides her arm around my waist and I have to use most of my strength to help the larger woman up to her feet.

We stagger together toward the car, passing the bodies of the bulls. Their faces ghastly white as death has already taken them someplace else.

Carol shifts Rindy in the car when we arrive and quickly addresses all of our wounds with the equipment from Rindy’s medkit. Carol doesn’t seem to worry about the amount of blood splattered across the bench seat of her new car, but I guess it’s a moot point as we don’t need the cage anymore.

She manages to jump start it and park somewhere else and we rest quietly on the other side of the docks—waiting for the right time to sneak back in. I cuddle up to her, savoring the fact that I can hear and feel the strong heart beat thumping in her chest under her blue dress as her hand makes lazy circles under my trench against my back.

Then with our gear and my sax, we sneak into a back entrance where a man in a grey jumpsuit waves us in and loads us into a half filled cargo container full of guns and bullets from the look of it. I shiver against Carol as she kisses my cheek hard.

There’s still blood smeared on her mink, but she refuses to take it off. The cargo container shifts and is loaded into something else that is humming in a way that it vibrates everything. Carol sits down, carefully wrapping me in her lap. Rindy leans in next to her, shoulder to shoulder with Carol. I hold my sax tightly against my chest.

The vibration grows louder and louder, shaking us harder and harder as we shift forward. Some of the small boxes fall and the bullets break free rolling like marbles on the floor. Carol wraps an arm around my head protectively and suddenly we jolt forward hard and fast. I shut my eyes, pressing against her, feeling my stomach slam into my chest.

“Shh,” she whispers into my ear, but I can barely hear her over the din of the roaring engines of the ship we’re on. Shivers overwhelm me, because I have never experienced anything like this. I have no idea how successful these flying air crafts are. Could we die in space? Could we blow up into a big ball of flame? I should have asked Carol this before we left, but I didn’t even think about it. I’ve never left Earth.

But then something settles in me. If I am going to die, I’d rather die in the arms of Carol like this than separated by plexiglass and a filthy hallway. Sighing, I press myself tighter into her and I feel her arms adjust minutely to accommodate me.

Then, it feels like we’re flying before another rocket goes off and slams Carol and me in the opposite wall, but her arms fly out cracking the shell of the container before it comes close to injuring me.

We all slam hard into the floor and Carol’s body hits me with a hard thump, but’s not bad. If I’d hit the wall with such force I’d probably be broken to bits if not dead. As it is there is blood running down the side of her face where she must have hit a moment after her hands and arms smashed against the metal.

“Carol!” I whimper and move for the med bag, but she grabs and clings to me.

“No—we don’t know,” she says as the ship shutters around us. “Patience…Therese. There might be another jolt. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” I shakily touch her bleeding, gaping wound and shake my head.

“N-no, I’m fine,” I whisper. She bends down and kisses me softly.

“I love you, dear heart,” she replies. “Rindy? You okay?”

“Decently well. That was fun,” she groans, flopping on her back. “I think I broke my wrist.”

“Guess, we can mark superior bone structure off your list of perks,” Carol teases and Rindy only groans as she shuffles through the med bag. She tosses a wound cleaner and closer to Carol—who allows me to treat her. Rindy helps herself to a brace of some kind that will heal her wrist.

I rest my head against Carol’s chest, listening to the thump of her heart and appreciating every beat as the ship seems to slow down and suddenly we begin to float. I desperately grab onto Carol as she chuckles.

“What’s going on?” I demand. I hate the feeling of powerlessness that sweeps through me.

“We’re in zero gravity, darling. Isn’t it delightful? Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve experienced this.” 

“Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick,” Rindy admits looking green around the gills.

“Well, don’t vomit—whatever you do,” Carol orders. “I for one do not want see that happen. Vomit in a bag or something.” Rindy nods and grabs the medkit floating near her and takes a shot of something.

“Do you need something, Therese?” She waves the gizmo at me.

I shake my head.

“Of course, my bunny-girl, can handle anything,” Carol purrs pleased and kisses my temple. She secures my fedora on my head as it tries to escape again. I smile at her attempts and her full laugh surrounds me like a blanket. A few pulses shake through the space craft as we’re guided in some direction. “We made it…you know? We’re off earth.”

“We’re off?” I whisper, suddenly realizing what she is saying. “You mean?”

“We did it, Therese,” she says with a soft, warm smile. “We’re free. You too Rindy.” Carol reaches out and squeezes Rindy’s arm.

“What are we going to do, Carol?” I ask. “Now that we’re here? What is it like?”

“I’ve been gone for so long…I can’t say anymore. Once we dock…I’ll have a better idea,” she says with a frown. Suddenly a shutter shakes through us again and quite unexpectedly the gravity returns—slamming us down to the ground.

“Really?” Rindy demands to no one. “Really?”

“Darling, we didn’t exactly fly first class,” Carol says in rare form. I chuckle from underneath her even though I hurt like hell and I’m sure that will bruise. Not that it matters. She bends down and steals another kiss.

It’s several minutes later before the man in the grey jumpsuit opens the door.

“Welcome to the International Space station,” he says with a friendly smile. “There’s an entry point for refugees just out the door. You’ll see it.”

“Thanks,” Carol says, grabbing a bag. “You saved our lives. Here’s more money for the damage to the crate.”

“Don’t worry about it. We have insurance and these things get damaged all the time. You gave me more than enough to get off that rock,” he says with a chuckle. “Now, go. Start a new life or whatever.”

Carol shakes her head, taking my hand, she leads me out of the container and into a new world, surrounded by other multicolored containers. The back of ship is open like it was at the docks on earth. We’re in a garage like space where other ships are unloading cargo in a grey-white loading zone, slightly brighter than the docking zone on earth, but not by much.

We ankle toward an exit marked for refugees. Suddenly, I’m not sure if I’m ready to enter the door and I pause. Carol pulls a little at my hand before realizing I’ve stopped.

“What’s the matter, bunny?” she asks me, looking back. Eyebrows drawn tight together.

“The beyond of the door,” I whisper and her eyebrows drop in confusion. She steps toward me.

“Therese, you’re not making sense,” she says. I shake my head.

“What’s on the other side? A clink…more running…I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I’m scared and it hurts.” I touch my chest.

She pulls me close to her, grabbing my face to make me look at her.

“Darling…I wish I could tell you that we’ll always be safe now that we’ve escaped but I can’t…I’ll die to protect you,” she says. “I’ll die a thousand deaths for you.” She nuzzles my cheek. “But we cannot stop here. There’s nothing here for us. Come with me.”

***  
The long hallways become a scanner with relaxed guards who remove all of our weapons temporarily before they are carefully marked and placed in locked boxes which we are allowed to keep, but they will only be unlocked when we leave the station. The guards don’t even seem surprised that we have them.

“Is it your first time off planet?” one of the women asks us in a navy blue uniform of some kind.

“It’s been a long time,” Carol admits. “But I’ve been off before. These two haven’t.”

“Do you have an ID chip?” the woman responds and Carol lifts out her arm. She scans it and her eyes widen a little as her eyes trace back up to Carol’s icy grey ones. “You’re…I’m sorry. It’s just we don’t get a lot of the originals anymore.”

“Do tell me…am I still running for my life?” Carol says in a drawl that shocks me. “Or have we finally found safe harbor?”

The woman straightens bolt right.

“It’s safe here, ma’am. The other two will need to get ID chips and paperwork to be considered citizens, but it won’t take long belief or not.”

Carol nods.

“Do show us the way,” she says in that silky dangerous voice of hers.

“Great…are you all Outliers?” the woman asks, sounding strangely sheepish now in Carol’s presence.

“Do we have to answer that?” I wonder aloud. She looks at me, cheeks darkening.

“No…no Outlier has to admit their status, but there are benefits. You can receive a monthly stipend and medical insurance.”

“The repressed?” Carol asks harshly and the woman’s eyes snap back to her.

“Y-y-es. All Outliers are considered to be citizens of the Eos Corporation upon entry.”

“You mean…” Carol stops dead in her tracks. Eyes wide and the woman looks at her again concerned.

“You’ve been down there for a really long time, haven’t you?”

“Ten years after the Rebellion I went to Earth,” Carol says, cheeks flushing.

“That was sixty years ago,” the woman says in awe and this time Carol’s cheeks do fully flush. I nearly choke when I hear that, looking at Carol with fresh eyes. When did she even go into the war? How old had she been?

We’re led into a waiting room, where other people are currently at windows, sitting in orange seats. Each one is in a high roller suit, but not tailored like the ones Carol prefers. We approach a free window stuck in a green wall and our guide leaves us to it. Rindy approaches the window, looking to Carol.

“New citizen request?” the man behind the desk asks, a blue grainy screen flickering in face. “Refugee?”

“Yes…” Rindy says. Her hands tap nervously on the counter.

“You are not required to answer this, but there are benefits for admitting to Outlier status.” She looks to Carol for confirmation.

“They already know I’m one…there’s no guarantee what they say is true, but I do know the Eos Corporation. That’s where my investments are tied too.”

“Well, I am going to need money before I can find a job, I suppose,” Rindy says.

“What do you do?” the man asks. All helpful like—and I don’t trust it.

“EMT.”

“You won’t have a problem finding a job out here. Colonies and stations are always short medical staff.”

“I’m an Outlier. My name is Rindy Stockton.”

He asks a few more questions before inserting an ID chip under her skin with a small pistol looking thing. Then, I approach the window.

“I…we don’t think, I’m Outlier,” I say and Carol squeezes my shoulder.

“We haven’t got a regular in a long long time. Usually it’s the repressed that are run through,” he says. “But welcome to the galaxy.” I give him my name and job title, which causes him to get all excited with questions about what I play and what style of music I play, and soon I have a ID chip inserted into me too.

“Can we get booking off the station or do we need to spend the night?” Carol asks him. He passes a pamphlet with a map of the station and some timetables.

We’re shuffled out of this strange room.

“I see that we’ve landed in the trucker stops of space stations,” Carol groans as she examines the pamphlet with the hotel. We move in the direction of the transport ships.

“Rindy, would you like to come with us to the Eos colony? You’re welcome to stay with us until you find a place you want to stop,” Carol says. She nods shyly still looking at the space station even though it isn’t even that busy.

It’s nothing but grey hand railings and stairs in the main area. There’s a handful of people milling around in jumpsuits of different colors, but it’s not anything like I’ve ever seen before.

“Do you have any flights out that can get us in the direction of the Eos Colony?” Carol asks a woman at the transport desk. She looks up surprised as if she wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Colony? The corporation is there, but not a colony. Bait’s Station is the closest I can get you,” the woman says without looking up. “It leaves tomorrow morning.”

“What do you mean it isn’t a colony? It’s been years.”

“It’s the site of the corporation, not a colony,” she says, looking up at Carol. “You’ll see.” Carol is shocked as the woman hands her the tickets.

“What’s wrong, Carol?” I ask her. She looks down at me stunned.

“It’s been sixty years that’s more than enough time to terraform and colonize a planet with the money my people have,” she says, frowning. “I’m going to have a long talk with Father when I grab his ear.”

“Father?” I ask.

“He was the first,” she says. “Mother and him don’t get along.” She gives a wry, dangerous smile. “But he was the one who led the Rebellion and got us Eos—but he was supposed to terraform it and make it a colony for our people.” 

We ankle towards the hotel and suddenly, I feel like we have more questions than answers now that we have escaped the hell of Earth into what only feels like another boiling pot.


	15. Two Idiots

This hotel is small and humble in comparison to the places that we’ve stayed at before. Rindy has to share a room with us since there are no other rooms available. Carol and I have to share a twin bed together.

It took us a while to get comfortable, but Carol didn’t seem to mind. She just smiles at me as she pulls me flush against her flannel pajamas. The heat of her body warms me up and I nuzzle against her neck.

“What do you think?” I whisper. “No bugs…no one even caring that we’re here and the way they treat you.” She strokes my back with her long fingers and I shiver against her, seeing a hint of another pleased smile.

“I’m starting to dream and I haven’t done that for a very long time,” she admits with a low rumble in her chest. I press my head against the sound and she sighs against me happily.

***  
The next morning we end up on a grey transport ship. We’re confined to a little four bed bunk room for the first hour or so, before someone comes and leads us to the mess. It’s a woman in a blue jumper again with a friendly smile, Catherine.

“Is that a musical instrument?” she asks me. Rosa is in my hand, of course, because even if the door can lock—it doesn’t mean someone can’t get in and steal our stuff. I nod, a little shy mouthed at the moment and Carol squeezes my shoulder.

“She is a lovely sax player,” she nearly purrs.

“Is she your girl? Looks like you got lucky,” Catherine says with a wink and the blood runs out of my face at what she says. My dogs stick to the floor and Carol stops with me as she is saying—

“I did get very lucky—” and her eyes widen when she looks at me. “There’s no law against us being together, Therese.”

“Are you serious?” Catherine says. “There are laws against love? That’s—that’s insane!”

“That’s not even the worst of it,” mutters Rindy.

“I am hesitant to know the news, but also interested,” Catherine says. “But all that to say…Are you okay, sweetie? You’re safe here.”

I’m still standing stockstill, lungs refusing to suck in air. Carol strokes my back and looks at me, eyebrows pinched with concern.

“You’re safe, bunny. I promise,” Carol says gently. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” 

“I’m sorry, I worried you, honey. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to play your instrument this evening. I’m sure everyone would love it. We don’t ever get to hear live performances.”

I nod, slowly and I don’t know what’s wrong with me as Carol slips a kiss on my head. I shutter against her, sliding my arm around her, even though I’m terrified. I need her. I need the comfort to know everything is going to be okay.

We walk down the mess and I release Carol, because there is a handful of people in blue and orange jumpsuits.

“Here, come sit with me and Brian and Joran. They’re a couple too,” she says. “See it’s okay.” We all sit down as the woman shows Carol where to get the food. I watch her and Rindy, shaking again.

“Hey,” Brian, the brown haired man, says in a orange jumpsuit. “You’re a skittish little thing, aren’t you?” I shrug, rubbing at the sleeves of my trench. “You’ve been through a lot then…you have to be from earth.” I nod.

“We barely got out…” I murmur, barely able to meet their eyes. Carol slides in beside me. Her hip and thigh pressing against mine on the bench and I appreciate it even though there is space enough for both of us. Her arm slides around me possessively as if now that she has a reason to touch me in public she’s going to take advantage of it. 

“Therese was telling us how difficult it was on Earth to escape. We knew it was bad, but sounds like it’s gotten a lot worse,” Joran says. The woman nods—Catherine.

“In my time on Earth it has gotten tremendously bad,” Carol says carefully. “The new Sovereign is absolutely insane. For forty years, he’s created a whole institution to purify humanity.” She sounds disgusted. “Getting rid of any undesirables under the clause of removing Outliers from the population.” She shakes her head. “Everyone lives in fear, so they can control the angry populace.”

“That’s…that’s sickening,” Catherine says. “They purify? Like kill them?” 

“They don’t even have to be Outliers. Therese isn’t an Outlier, but they would treat her like one, because she was impoverished and transient. She didn’t have a choice, because she didn’t have any family.”

“And you?” Brian asks Rindy. She shrugs.

“I was an EMT and got stupid and didn’t sleep for three days,” she admits. “I ended up in a facility. They were doing experiments on me when they dropped Therese and Carol on me. Therese used her skills to break us out.”

“Break you out?” Catherine asks. An eyebrow lifts intrigued.

“I know how to pick locks and start some cars,” I say with a shrug. “It’s less illegal than being an Outlier.” Catherine snorts and shakes her head with a grin.

“And this is why I love being a pilot on a transport from earth,” Catherine says. “You never know who’ll you meet!”

“You’re a pilot?” I ask with wide eyes and she nods.

“You betcha. Tell you what, after lunch I’m starting my shift. You guys want to see the cockpit? June won’t mind a bit. She’s the Captain of this ship and the primary pilot.” 

I look over at Carol and she nods with a little smile, stroking my cheek.

“You don’t have to be afraid, bunny. I’ll protect you,” she says and squeezes me.

After we eat, Rindy and I follow Catherine down a narrow hallway. It’s as grey and dark as everything else onboard, lit by ambient lights that flicker in and out as we pass them. The bridge of the ship is cramped with a larger, older woman in a blue jumpshjt and curly brown hair that falls down to her shoulders. She’s got a look about her that says she doesn’t put up with any bullshit when she rises to greet Catherine.

“These are our guests? Where’s the tall Outlier? I’d like to meet that one,” June says, dark eyes flicking to Catherine’s.

“She’s still down in the mess, talking with Brian and Joran…catching up on the news,” Catherine replies with a shrug. “These two haven’t been on a ship before. Isn’t that something?” June’s eyes fall on me first and I can’t tell what she’s thinking.

“Land folks,” she says as if she’s mildly annoyed. “Welcome aboard the Anthem. She’s my darling.” She pats the door of the bridge with a loving hand. “You treat her right. She’ll treat you right.” June motions for us to step inside and when I squeeze next to her. She grabs my arm in a vice grip and plops me down in the seat opposite of the one Catherine took from her.

“See I told you,” Catherine says. “She’s a tough nugget on the outside and squishy on the inside.” June snorts at that.

“Now, you stop,” June warns. “Okay, kid. That’s a manual stick, but we don’t use that unless it’s an emergency. Really all you need is the panels, to plot courses and avoid astroids and any emergencies that crop up. There’s not much you can do from here, except fly the ship. We’re just a basic transport so we don’t travel with very many weapons. Pirates tend to avoid us as we don’t carry worthwhile cargo.”

“P-pirates?” I ask and look up at her. She gives a grim smile.

“Yup. They’ll scavenge ships and strip them, even sell the crew into slavery if they feel like it. Space isn’t all puppies and kittens—you know. There’s areas where corporations and folks are having wars out there over dingy little planets, where the worlds are even a lawless without a proper franchise or corporation. At least up here, we’re free. This is my ship and I freelance her out to businesses.”

“Wow…what’s it like being free? Not a part of something?” I ask her. “I was born apart of Sovereign Nation on Earth, but I didn’t have a choice, you know? It never meant anything to to me, because I was always running.”

“It’s like deciding where you want to go because you want to go there, but it’s also a lot of responsibility. You miss enough cargo runs and then you’re out of gas or parts and you float. I grew up out in the stars. My parents ran their own trucker company until they were bought out. Always knew I wanted my own damn ship after watching them switch from free to being owned. My own crazy crew and this ship is what I’ve got. I’m damned proud of both of them.”

“You want to sit, Rindy?”

“No thanks, Therese. You look great there though.”

I shake my head.

“I don’t even know how to fly a car. I don’t think I’ll ever learn how to fly a ship.”

“How old are you? Not very old I take it,” June says before I can answer. “You can spend you’re whole life saying you can’t or you can go and learn how to do it. I’m always looking for new pilots. I’d be willing apprentice anyone who puts in the effort, but in the meantime we’d put you to work. Swabbing the deck, cleaning the mess—”

“I appreciate the offer. It’s real nice, but Carol—”

“Oh…it’s a pair deal, huh? Or a trio? You’re the EMT. We already got a doctor and I’m not sure what the original does.”

“We’re good thanks,” I say quickly. “Thanks though. I mean it…not many people would just offer me a job. I’m a lowlife.”

She shrugs.

“You’re a kid. I could wrinkle out the trouble spots and you seem like a good one. Shame you’re buried deep in that original. I hope she let’s you fly free, kid. You’re young.”

“Carol is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She saved my life,” I growl and June throws up her hands, giving me a grim smirk.

“I’m just saying you’re young. That’s all—”

“I would have said the same thing,” Rindy interrupts, “but you have no idea what these guys have been through. Too much. Carol was a detective, a cop.”

“Security, huh,” June says, leading us back toward the mess after we wave goodbye to Catherine. “Yeah, we’re stocked full of that too. If you ever need a place, kid. That’s all I’m saying.”

I nod and we enter the mess.

Carol is chatting with much more of the crew now. She looks up the moment she sees me and smiles. I feel sucked into her arms and nestle there as June approaches, offering a hand.

“I’m the Captain of the ship. Sorry, I wasn’t able to greet you upon disembarking as I was flying this fine vessel. You must be Carol. The woman who bought the tickets?”

“Yes, Carol Aird,” she says without missing a beat. “I see you’ve met Therese and Rindy.” Her voice is silky, low, and dangerous again as she eyes the woman carefully. “Did you have fun, darling?” I nod against her. “Was the Captain good to you?”

“She offered me a job,” I say, feeling silly so I start to pull away. Carol tilts her head to the side. “She wants me to train as a pilot.”

“You could. You can always do what you want, Therese.”

I squeeze hard against her again.

“I’m not leaving you. Not after everything.”

Her lips twitch and she looks toward the Captain.

“I’d love to catch up on the news,” the Captain says. “Especially since I can’t lure your young maiden away with a good job.” I roll my eyes.

“You guys are daft. I’m going to go rest. I’ll be back for dinner,” I say and separate myself from Carol. Her chuckle follows me back to our room.

I could care less about the state of the galaxy. I’m only glad that I’m away from Earth and Sovereign and somewhere that doesn’t feel like we’re running. Settling into the bed, I close my eyes and pull up a blanket, because it is terribly cold on the ship.

A tap on my hip wakes me up a while later as I blink up at Carol. I push over to the wall, but there’s not a lot of space for us, even less than a twin bed. I have to move to my side to make room for her as she pulls me to her. Her scent washes over me.

“I never thought you were shy, Therese,” her voice rumbles around me. “What’s going on, bunny?” She sounds concerned.

“I don’t know…It’s just different. It takes me a while to warm up to strangers and you seem to be telling them everything. What you are, what I am…that we’re together…”

“You’re scared,” she says quietly. 

“Who’s to say things haven’t changed since you came to Earth? Sixty years is a long time, Carol.” She takes in a long slow breath as her fingers pause their gentle scratching on my back.

“Do you think we’re in danger?” she asks gently.

“…No,” I admit. “But things could change. These people are okay…but not everyone will be.” 

“I know it’s hard…you were born in that chaos,” she says. “Just like I was, but you didn’t fight to change it.”

“Is sixty years enough for things to change so much? That even the repressed have rights, stipends and medical for free?”

“It’s not for free. Eos Corporation is paying for it. My people are paying for it. We take care of our own,” she says. “They must have had a hand in this. They are quite wealthy and with wealth comes power.”

“And power corrupts,” I say and she stiffens in my arms.

“Are you saying my people—”

“No…” I look away. “It’s not that…it’s the whole fucking galaxy, Carol. We can’t trust it.”

“Then trust me,” she says, meeting my eyes. “Please. Therese. I know it’s hard. You don’t trust anyone. You only trust Rindy because you were thrown in a cell with her. You trust me because I fought tooth and nail for that trust to be restored. Even if it all goes to hell, darling…we will find a way out. We always will.”

I press my forehead into her shoulder as her hands begin stroking me.

“I’m scared, okay?” I whisper. I’m utterly terrified.

“I know, darling. It’s okay to be frightened. We’ve been through so much. It would be folly for me to believe all of our fears would vanish upon arrival.”

“You’re not tired,” I say to her and she chuckles again. She begins kissing my neck playfully.

“I begged Rindy to take a tour and spend her time on deck. She didn’t argue…you know how she hates to be contained.”

“Carol,” I whine as she begins to pull at my shirt and she chuckles more. Fingers glide up my abdomen and I suck in as she starts stealing more passionate and violent kisses—today she isn’t afraid to scratch and bite which sends laughter fighting through me.

“Darling,” she says, laughing with me. “You’re in quite the mood.” She pinches hard and I chuckle for some crazy reason.

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” I admit and she finally gives up on proper lovemaking and starts pecking kisses everywhere as I giggle. I’ve never giggled in my fucking life, but as I hold Carol’s hair and head I truly laugh for the first time.

“You’re happy,” she says and smiles in wonder. “Not crazy. You’re euphoric.” She pushes me down on the bed, crashing her lips against mine as the laughter churns out of me, tears running down my cheeks.

“Carol—oh god!” I can barely breathe.

“Shhh, my bunny-girl, you’re fine. You’re fine.” She tames my uncontrollable laughter as if she is a conductor for a band. 

“Happy?” I whisper and grin at her, feeling the pull of my cheeks. The look on her face is all yearning with the deep hooded desired buried underneath. “This is what it feels like? I think…I’d forgotten.”

“So had I, darling,” she says. “So had I.” This time I kiss her, unbuttoning her blouse and the laughter leaves me as heat pools into my core as we lose ourselves in each other.

***

The music rips from me again like magic in the dim mess hall. They’d dropped the bright lights to reflect sleeping hours. There’s a fog of smoke from the vapes and gaspers and it’s just like an old speakeasy and I wonder if I will ever play in a proper one again. Rosa sings like a doll and she takes me to new levels that I wonder if Betsy could have ever taken me.

When I finish the first set, people start clapping. Then, they start yelling more, more, more and I glance to Carol who is smiling proudly at me. She nods and lifts her gasper toward me as if encouraging me. So take a drink of water and play them some more soul songs.

***

By the time, we step into Bait’s Station we know everyone on the small transport and swear up and down we’ll keep up. Mostly, people want to hear me play again, so if I have an official place where I’m going to play Captain June wants to know.

Bait’s Station is different. The moment we step onto the busy hub, we’re surrounded by the strange mess of humanity that reminds me of a blend of upper and lower side. Some are dressed fancy, others are dressed in poor clothes, and there are even more in strange clothing: robes, cotton pants and button-ups, overalls, bikinis and wraps, completely covered from head to toe. Every imaginable clothing item in every color and words I don’t even recognize.

“What are they speaking?”

“French. I believe, darling.”

“Isn’t that illegal? It’s Chinese or English.”

“Out here, any language goes,” she says, arm around mine. No one even bothers to check us for weapons as we move through the mass. We have to cut through a section of markets in stalls that have plants, dirt, animals, and more for sale.

Carol struggles to find a way through the maze as it makes absolutely no sense. She has to ask five times for directions along the way before we reach the main hub for connections to get off the station.

“Eos Corporation,” Carol announces to the man behind the glass window. His face has strange paint on it and his head is partially shaved.

“Hm…looks like tonight we have something for the right price.” She pays and he shows us a map to get to the other side of the hub to our ship.

This ship is much larger and is partially a cargo ship. The people are dressed in uniforms and business suits. A woman, tall and lengthy, but broad of shoulder and muscular, stops Carol the moment she enters the ship.

Carol gasps when she sees the woman.

“Claudette?” she whispers. “Sister? Is it you?”

The woman’s face breaks out into a grin and the pair hug tightly. Then, Carol claps her on the back a few times.

“Look at you! You’re getting old,” the woman teases Carol when she pushes her back to look at her, but the woman, Claudette, definitely looks older than Carol by a few years, her hair silvering.

“Last, I remember, we’re the same age,” Carol says. Then, she tilts her head and grins wickedly. “Roughly.”

“Roughly. Indeed. Come in. Come in,” she says and leads us through the extravagant ship with fancy carpeting and we’re allowed to have separate rooms that are more like hotel suites.

“This is fancy,” Carol admits and looks back at Claudette. She shrugs.

“They just keep getting fancier and fancier,” she says. “You look like you’ve enjoyed the money.” She shakes the sleeve of Carol’s mink. “Though you did get it messy. Have a hard time getting off planet?”

“Extremely. Have many originals made it off?” Carol asks and Claudette blanches at that, before shaking her head.

“No…you’re the first in years. We honestly thought all the originals who hadn’t escaped yet were dead,” she replies. “So…repressed and who is this?” Carol wraps an arm around my shoulder protectively.

“She’s mine.”

“A regular person?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow. “That’s kind of weird, Carol. Have you gone native?” Carol stiffens and steps away, poking a finger into the hard chest of the muscular woman without fear.

“You know, I had a damn cop ask me the same thing back on Earth, Claudette,” she growls. “He wanted to know if I was an Outlier. The second you start degrading them then you turn into one of those monsters.” Claudette stiffens and bats her finger away.

“Well…shit, maybe we need you around Carol to talk some sense into Father. Into all of us…you know, it’s different now.”

“You mean, Father’s not terraforming our planet?”

“That’s only a bit of it. You should talk to him…seriously. I’m just a hired gun.”

“Claudette, you were a general in the Rebellion. You’re more than a hired gun.”

“It’s different now, Carol,” she says sadly. “We don’t have anything to fight for. I was made to fight, but what do you do when you don’t have anything to fight for?” Her voice sounds pained.

“Come to me after shift and we can talk. Have a drink?” Carol offers, but Claudette shakes her head.

“Can’t drink, but I’ll come,” she says. “You’ll be on Eos by morning. It’s nice to meet you—”

“Therese,” I say before Carol can. Her eyebrows lift and Claudette looks a little surprised too.

“At least, she’s a brave one,” Claudette says and takes my hand gently. “Any friend of Carol’s is a friend of mine.” She bows her head and releases my hand. “See you two later.”

Claudette returns with a rich meal for dinner. Which Carol enjoys since she had been eating normal regular jane rations on the ship. Rindy joins us wanting to get to know another original, so we all sit around the table, eating good food and listening to Carol and Claudette reminisce about an ancient war.

I can tell Carol is pleased. It’s been years since she could talk to someone who gets her and it pains my heart that I can never share this with her. That I’m merely a nineteen year old girl who has barely experienced a drop of the real world while this world weary ancient creature has experienced so much more than me.

When Claudette leaves, Carol watches me as I undress into pajamas. 

“You’ve been quiet,” she says. I look up at her and I can see there is an unease about her. I take a deep breath, pulling down my shirt, and gaze upon her beautiful form tucked in that sleek chemise no longer covered in a flannel robe.

“I’ve had a lot to think about,” I admit.

“Want to share?” she asks. “Or is it just me? Am I too much?” I pause at those words. Then, I shake my head and slide to the bed on top of her. I kiss her gently.

“You’re never too much,” I promise. “It’s just I saw another side of you with Claudette. You were happy.”

“Not as happy as when I’m with you,” she says and strokes the side of my face. “She’s changed so much since the war. She’s sad…you know? She’s really sad and broken, even after all these years…like me.”

“You’re not sad or broken anymore,” I say. “Well, maybe broken, but it’s the right kind that fits with my brokenness.” She smiles at me and pulls my hips down to hers.

“Oh darling…I love when you speak your poetry to me,” she says, cupping my face and bringing me down for soft kisses. “You say the most delightful things. You do make me happy. I was so unhappy. I never saw an end until you came. I was stuck in something terrible—in a world without love and only full of hate—and it was destroying me piece by piece. I’d lost faith. But then you came and put some of those pieces back together.”

“Carol.”

A smile tugs on her lips.

“Therese, my darling. I’ll always love you.”

“You changed me too…you know. I never had anything to believe in until I met you. And now…here we are dreaming like two idiots.” She chuckles.

“Two idiots indeed.”

***  
A gas mask is provided for Rindy and me and a toxic suit, because the atmosphere on Eos isn’t livable for a regular jane or some of the repressed. Stepping off the ship, the cargo is being pushed into large tin buildings that sit like lumps in front grey rugged mountains. Rain splatters against us and lightening sparks every few seconds in the violent purple skies.

“This is Eos?” I yell to Carol. She looks at me with sad eyes and nods. Her blonde hair blowing free and her frown obvious under crackling angry eyes. There’s a bubble of some kind in front of us. It’s so dark, but I see a faint hint of black pillars within. Carol leads the way toward the city-bubble.

We can only follow after her in this strange new world. Far from the dream of a terraformed world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this and then the Epilogue. I think this is a chapter longer than I said it was, but the words keep coming. Thanks for your patience as I get these guys to a home. I want to leave them someplace happy.


	16. Father

As we draw closer to the strange sphere, the grey-lavender sand beneath our dogs eddies and flows in rivulets, making it difficult to cross the void. The sphere looms over us, blotting out the blue light of the local star. An entry port is lit to guide us, orange and yellow against the stark background. It’s big enough for both freighter and truck traffic. The first door slides open upon ID request and we’re locked in.

Reaching out, I grab Carol and she tucks her arm around me, looking unworried as oxygen is rushed in and it somehow equilibrates to the atmosphere within the dome.

Carol has to show her ID chip again to a scanner, before the final door opens.

I’ve never seen anything like it in my entire life. Blue skies with no clouds, a bright yellow sun, and green grass as far as the eye can see. It’s pristine and perfect. So perfect, it makes my eyes water. Rindy and I take off our suits and gas masks, putting them in a closet on the side of the entryway.

Two twin black towers stand in the center of the dome, nearly touching the top of the sphere. It looks like the sphere was designed around the towers. Everything else is eerily quiet. There’s no one out here, only the flat green grass, low and each blade of equal height, and a narrow red cobblestone street wide enough for a vehicle to pass. The towers appear to be about five kilometers away.

“Carol?” I ask and she jolts from her revelry of the strange place. I wonder if she has ever been here or if it’s changed dramatically. Is she lost in a memory of some kind?

“It really hasn’t changed much—not really—…the grass and bubble atmosphere is new, but this planet should be so much… _more_. I don’t understand it. It should be completely terraformed and a hub of new life for my people. Not this… _this_ monstrosity,” she growls, and I know she’s pissed. Her lips tuck into a thin white line as she shakes her head. “Sixty damn years and this is what we get?”

“Come on. No use standing around then?” I mean to say it, but it curves into a question, because Carol will do what she wants to do. Her head tips downward in a nod, shoulders dropping, as we ankle towards the strange alien structures.

The doors on the tower are open and Carol again seems to know exactly where she is going like every other place we’ve been to. There are a few more people inside. All of them have that peculiar look of an original about them—a little _too_ perfect. They look at us and instantly know we’re different. Doesn’t take much as they are all in a grey uniforms and we’re dressed as we are.

We might blend in on Bait’s Station, but not here. We stick out like sore thumbs in the baffling white hallways. A man with golden blond hair and a muscular frame approaches us with a confused look.

“Excuse me—we don’t get a lot of guests at Eos Corporation anymore. Can I help you?” He sounds deeply confused and more than a little awkward as if he’s not used to handling strange visitors. He gazes at Carol who is at the lead of our pack.

“I’m here to speak with Father. I’m an agent who has recently returned from Earth. It’s imperative that I speak with him immediately.” His eyes widen and his whole demeanor changes. Shoulders buckle inward and his eyebrows draw up as he edges back as if Carol is somehow dangerous and a high roller deserving of some reverence.

“I—I doubt he is available today on such short notice, but I can …I guess, I can take you to his secretary?” I almost feel sorry for the guy, since he obviously isn’t equipped to handle this situation and no one is stepping up to help him. Carol gives him a sickening sweet smile.

“No need. He’s still on the top floor of this tower, is he not?” Carol asks and shifts toward the man, waving her hand as if she refuses to bother him.

“Um…y-yes.” The man flinches from her hand as if expecting violence, but Carol merely rolls her eyes.

She pushes past him, while waving us along in the same motion.

“We don’t need a guide then, darling. Thanks though. Come along girls—I know the way.” Looking back, I see him staring after us both frightened and completely shocked by what has just transpired. Carol finds the elevator and it opens immediately so we are inside before he can even close his mouth.

I look at Carol, who is looking rather pleased and pissed at herself. It doesn’t matter the situation, but she always seems able to handle it. I take her hand and pat it. She looks down at me and I see a flicker of a small worried smile tug at her lips.

On the top floor, the elevator opens up to a completely different scene. There’s painted halls, burgundy carpet lined with golden vines, and black and gold double doors before us. Carol ankles in much like she did the night she stepped into the speakeasy I use to work at—like she owns the damn place. It doesn’t matter if she hasn’t stepped foot in the place in sixty years.

She throws open the doors to reveal a waiting room of sorts. There are tables, couches, and a desk near another set of golden doors. The desk is heavy ornate wood—the kind that looks like someone personally hand carved it—and behind it is a woman. She is lithe, brown haired and has an amazingly pretty face. The computer on the desk is the fanciest one I’ve ever seen. The screen nearly flat and large, not like most of the small screens I’ve seen.

She looks up at us startled. 

“I’m Agent Carol Aird. Tell Father I am here to see him or I will force entry.” I shoot a look at Carol. Her voice is low and dangerous all of sudden, replacing the honey she was using on the man downstairs. What is she doing? This place is swarming with originals. She can’t take them all on surely, just to see one man.

The secretary’s blue eyes snap open wider as she looks between us and back to Carol again as if she can’t believe what is happening. Honestly, neither can I. I have no idea what Carol is doing. None of this makes sense. Then, a wall seems to slam down over the woman’s expression as she rises to her feet. I spot the yellow band on her grey uniform and wonder what it means.

“He’s busy today. I can offer you an apartment and meals for a meeting at a later date. I realize your trip has been arduous and you’ve experienced—don’t!”

Carol barges toward the double doors and rams her shoulder into it. Metal screeches and snaps as one of the doors gives completely. I watch as it falls inward to the office. She stumbles into an even broader room. Following after her, I see each of the three sides are floor to ceiling windows as well as the ceiling. There’s a library, a fireplace, couches, chairs, a massive desk and other double doors that lead to who knows where.

“What the hell!” A hale man snaps, rising from his desk sharply. His hair is nearly all grey and he has a matching beard. “Carol? Damn it. You nearly gave me a heart attack, woman. Sandra call off the alert. It’s fine. Give us some privacy. _Now_.” 

He ankles toward several decanters full of liquor as he waits for his secretary to huff and vanish into the elevator. Carol glares at the man.

“Father, tell me what is going on or…” she let’s her words drop off in an impressive threat as she sneers at him. The man in front of her seems non-plussed as he crosses to us with three glasses of whiskey.

I gladly accept mine and down it in one swallow, because this seems to be going only one way thanks to Carol’s attitude. She crushes her glass in her fist, but Father continues to ignore her violent behavior as if it is not even happening as blood drips between the fingers of her fist to the glossy marble floor.

“Or what?” he asks, nonchalantly. “Burn Eos to the ground? You’re good, Carol. I’ll give you that. You’ve always been good, but you’re not that god damned good. And maybe you want to kill me for some reason, but it won’t change anything. It won’t change a damn thing. The cogs of this machine have been moving forward for too long.”

“Why?” Carol demands, voice shaking with emotion. I’m shocked to see tears in her eyes, though they don’t breach her defenses. “Why? After everything we fought for? Why?”

“Let’s sit down. I have no idea what you know.”

“Why is it people think you take bad news better if you’re sitting down?” Carol snaps waspishly. Father chuckles as he goes to fetch three more glasses of whiskey. He hands Carol and me another. This time I nurse mine and follow Carol to the couch. Rindy hesitantly takes the seat next to Father. Her hands fumbling against each other as she keeps glancing toward Carol for some sort of word, but Carol is a cold storm.

“Let me guess, you dreamed of a lush green home to bring your little human back to,” he offers. Carol stiffen next to me and I roll my eyes. Why are these two antagonizing each other? Is it because they are family? Do they really want to kill each other?

“Human?” she snarls. “Do you consider us inhuman?”

“No, merely superior in every way,” he says in a chilling voice as he casually sips his drink. A smile tugs on his lips as he dares Carol to negate his words.

“Promises were made, Father,” Carol changes the topic instead.

“Plans were made and they were changed.”

“Why?”

“A discovery was made. They discovered a very special species of fungi that is naturally produced on this planet.” He shuffles for a cigar in his pocket and offers her one, but she shakes her head. As if on cue, she pops out a gasper and lights it as he puffs his own cigar.

“You mean to tell me, you didn’t terraform our home world, because of a fucking mushroom?” Carol growls. He nods.

“It wasn’t a mushroom, but yes. This is a special crystalized fungi that would have been destroyed if we changed the conditions of this planet.”

“And what does this _fungi_ offer us?” I can feel her shaking beside me.

“A revenue source that far exceeds anything we ever could have imagined. It has had a much higher yield than a terraformed planet,” he says with a shrug as if Carol’s feelings don’t mean a damned thing. My insides churn as a slow burn of hatred for the man starts. “You see, Carol, this fungi is highly addictive, extremely pleasurable when consumed and offers pleasant hallucinogenic experiences.”

“Shit,” Rindy breathes as she realizes what he is talking about. Carol shoots to her dogs.

“You mean to tell me you are mass producing phantasmagoria instead of building a home world for our people?” she demands. Her voice breaks at that. “How dare you! After everything we fought for. How could you, Father? I gave my life for this dream. Virginia, and—and so many others died for this dream!”

“Nobody complained when the money started rolling in,” he says, puffing his cigar and I shut my eyes, because this man obviously doesn’t give a shit about Carol. “Nor did they complain when we reached corporation status and were better able to navigate, not only the rights for all originals, but also for the refugee repressed on earth. Now, no originals are created by humans. Only by the Eos Corporation, generally for couples off world, or for a larger workforce to mine the isilitian crystals here on planet.”

“You have slave labor?” I fear Carol will rip out his throat now as the panther rises in her again. I shutter as I shoot a fearful look at the man before us.

“No, they are highly trained, cared for, and after five years are released from their contract.”

“Five years?” she demands as she squeezes the bridge of her nose.

“The cost of being created must be worked off. During that time we train them for alternate careers.”

“It isn’t right. Besides that you are addicting huge portions of the human population for money. That’s sick. You are destroying people’s lives, Father!”

“We have a cure—”

“But you have no idea how that cure is released once it’s been purchased. It’s sold with at a high mark-up on earth and most people can’t afford it or worse, denied assess entirely. They are left enslaved to a drug that slowly cripples and destroys them.”

“I can’t control how the drugs are distributed by other incorporated and government led sectors. Naturally, it does cost more to synthesize the Cure and the materials are harder to accrue as they are not native to this planet. Morally and ethically we are not at fault.” Carol sputters.

“Not at fault for destroying their lives? Who even are you?” she demands. “Where is the man who fought for our freedom? The man I once respected and was willing to die for. Virginia would be appalled by the man you’ve become.” He lifts an eyebrow. His passivity finally broken.

“You call me, Father, but I am only ten years older than you, Carol. Don’t let the grey hair fool you. I’m just not as well made as your generation. No one—not the thousands of originals or the thousands of repressed who begged me for advice and care complained about the money. They wanted everything from me and I am giving it to them.

If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t be free. We wouldn’t have basic medical care or money to manage the refugee crisis. Do you think the humans would care about the repressed, about the hundreds of originals without jobs or training? What folly! If it weren’t for me we wouldn’t have ships to live on, money for retraining, or available jobs! So what if you don’t have a damned planet, Carol. You have enough money to buy your own un-terraformed planet, maybe even a small starter moon. I would gladly fund you to create a home world—“

“I will not take another single dime from you!” she screams. I grab her arm.

“Carol,” I say and she cringes from me. Her cheeks flame red and her eyes won’t meet mine.

“I’m so sorry, Therese. I didn’t know they were making phantasmagoria here, I swear,” she croaks.

“I know. I don’t blame you for any of this. It’s just…it’s clams, Carol,” I say. “More clams than any of us can even imagine. We can’t just ankle away from that.” Her eyebrows shoot up and she falls on her knees before me, grabbing both of my hands. I’m shocked by the emotion stretched across her face.

“See even your little _human_ understands,” Father sneers in my direction and I glare at him. If he didn’t have all the clams in the damn world…who cares if it’s clams from drugs. Back in lowerside, it doesn’t matter where the clams comes from. It’s all dirty clams down there. It’s ill-gotten. This is about survival and she doesn’t get that. She’s been rich so long, she doesn’t know what it’s like to starve.

Carol just shakes her head.

“Bunny…no, we can’t take his money anymore,” she whispers. “I can take care of us, Therese. We don’t need blood money to survive. We can’t continue to support a system that dehumanizes either of our people. Human or Outlier. Do you understand? If we take the money we’re just as bad as Father, as the facility that tortured and nearly killed us or Sovereign, who oppresses us.” I swallow and shut my eyes, feeling the hot shame wash over me too.

She’s right. As much as I want those clams…it’s not right. I’d rather starve than be like Sovereign.

“Okay,” I whisper. “I trust you…you’ll figure it all out?” She nods, pulling my head close so she can kiss it.

“I promise, Bunny,” she says. “I have more than enough to tide us and Rindy over…if she wants it.”

“Of course! I’m an EMT. I took an oath not to hurt anyone and I take that seriously,” Rindy says. “So I won’t be taking your money anymore either, sir. I’m not going to support this circus.”

“Then, I dare say you know the way out, Carol,” Father snaps. “Just don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out and don’t think I’ll let either of you crawl back here.” Carol rises to her feet turning to him.

“Oh, we won’t Father. I promise you that. I hope this is the last time we ever see each other. Maybe, Mother was right about you all along. Maybe you are a narcissistic asshole and we should have never trusted you.” He smirks with a shrug as he puffs his cigar.

“At least, I’m a fucking rich asshole,” he growls and laughs at her. Carol throws her whiskey on his face before we ankle out of there. Father throws a few curses at her, but doesn’t attack her or us. I grin at her, because I know the truth. Father is too scared to do anything, because he knows Carol would stomp him.

Carol is steely eyed in the elevator and out the door of the tower. We make it all the way to the entry way to the bubble, before she stops and puts her hand on it. She rests her head against it and Rindy and I watch as her shoulders start to shake.

“Carol?” I ask hesitantly, moving toward her, but she throws out an arm to stop me from getting close. “Carol, what is it?” I hug her from behind, ignoring the arm, and put my head against her shoulder. They keep bobbing and this close I can hear the tiny whimpers catching in her throat.

“Oh…darling…that bastard…he betrayed us all,” she sobs out. “Virginia and I, we all fought for our rights and we signed a peace treaty for this planet. This planet was supposed to be our home. How could he do this? Virginia died for nothing. Nothing at all.”

“That’s not true,” I say as gently as I can. “Carol, look at me.” She hesitates, but turns in my arms. Tears are streaming down her face and the pain in her face, causes my heart to stutter. I’ve never seen Carol look like this before. Maybe once, when she caught Richard with me. That look like she’s nearly lost something she can’t ever get back.

I take her face in my hands so her stormy blue eyes meet mine. 

“Your people are more free than they’ve ever been. I know this isn’t what you expected…that you thought your people were better than this.”

“We are! We should have libraries, museums, and schools,” she moans. “Not this. Not this monstrosity. Virginia and I spent so many nights bloody, cold, and hungry dreaming of a new world where we could start a new life. We didn’t fight to stay in the same darkness. We didn’t fight for this.”

I wipe away her tears, pulling her close into a hug.

“Carol…I know this isn’t what you wanted. What either of you wanted, but I believe you can do anything,” I murmur and I mean it. “I know you can.” Her eyebrows draw together. “You may not be able to have this planet…but Father did say you had money to buy another one.”

“Therese?” Carol’s eyebrows rise. “Are you saying you want to buy a planet with me?”

“Or a moon…whatever we can afford,” I say and I can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I sound like a mad woman.

“I…I honestly don’t know if we can afford it,” she says. “But I’m sure Father wasn’t lying. He’s an egotistical maniac, but he wouldn’t lie about the money. He’s too proud.”

“You can make libraries, schools, and museums then for your people on another planet.”

“With our people,” she emphasizes. “Humans and Outliers together without discrimination.” I smile at her and she takes my hand, kissing it hard.. “What do you think, Rindy?” She looks toward our friend. Her face lights up like the sun in the sky here.

“Oh hell yeah! I mean, you’ll need a doctor right?” she says with a grin. “Let’s buy a freaking planet!”

We laugh at the audacity of it. I mean, who buys a planet or a moon? How do you even go about doing that? But Carol doesn’t seem sad anymore and that’s worth a thousand moons. I grab her face again and pull it down to mine and kiss her hard. A day doesn’t go by that I’m not happy that Carol showed up in my life.

“You don’t mind, do you, Bunny?” Carol I ask. “That Rindy comes with us. That we go on another crazy adventure to find our home?”

I shake my head, keeping arms around her neck and smile up at her.

What else mattered, except being with Carol, anywhere, anyhow?

“No, as long as I’m with you. That’s all that matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, you guys are the best commenters ever! Thank you so much for your encouragement and sweet words. They really uplift and mean a lot to me. I'm so happy that you are enjoying this fic and it means something to you. I'm sad that we only have one more chapter to go. It's so unbelievable how fast this story came into fruition and I truly hope it ends on a wonderful note that satisfies us all.


	17. Epilogue

The band’s music curves around the speakeasy like lazy river on a sweltering day. Rosa belts out her sonorous song languid and fierce, more real than anything I’ve ever done. Every night here on Sanctuary, my music has matured, deepening with each grace note of our lives together, Carol’s and mine.

Sapphire eyes twinkle passed the dim hazy smoke, as they do most nights Carol is here to listen to me play. She loves to hear the deep rumble of jazz from the center of the settlement after a hard days work in the field or a day taking care of some disagreement in town. There’s no end to Carol’s list of things to do, even though she is merely a board member and chief shareholder of Sanctuary Incorporated, but she always makes time for this.

This is my main gig on our moon, but I’m frequently asked to travel to play with my band in various growing settlements and record and create music that is slowly growing an audience off world too. I’m nearly always receiving some crazy invite to play at various locations off world, but so far I’ve declined them all.

Once my world was reduced to lowerside and after running with Carol and the long journey it took for us to reach here I am always reluctant to leave, despite the expansion of my world. The moon is big enough for me. It’s twice as big as Earth anyway with a burgeoning population of refugees both human and repressed and originals. 

Teaching jazz is also a side gig I don’t mind for the player that has some natural talent and the will to learn, but it’s not my favorite thing to do. Usually, the player must have some skill as it’s not my strength nor do I have the knowledge to train someone from scratch.

The music cuts away from our last set and a fresh band sets up as I ankle off the stage. Carol offers me a straight vodka and kisses my cheek. She’s in some pretty evening dress like most of the dames and skirts in this place—all black and lace. The men in tuxes, but I don’t mind dressing up occasionally anymore. I don’t like playing sax in a dress so I’m in slacks and a glistening green blouse with a lovely pearl necklace Carol gave to me on our fifth anniversary. 

Her hand slips around my waist and her warm, soft lips press against mine. Her spicy scent sneaks passed the smoke and liquor of the speakeasy and reminds me all over the tiny pieces that attracted me to her in her first place.

“That amazing, Therese. I swear, each night you get better and better. You age like fine wine,” Carol whispers in my ear as the din of the speakeasy grows. We know almost everyone, mostly Carol’s old comrades and a handful of plain joes and janes willing to stick it out with some old school originals and a growing population of repressed.

“Flatterer,” I reply and kiss behind her ear. She presses me to her. “Six years, Carol. Do you ever regret it?” She pulls back. Her blue eyes searching my green ones rapidly, before she smiles and softens. She doesn’t spot an ounce of regret here that’s for sure.

“Never. Not in a million years, my bunny. I have a surprise for you.”

“Carol, I thought we promised no gifts this year,” I whine as she leads me to the bar. People chuckle around us. Rindy bats my arm playfully as she chats with the sheriff of our particular settlement—Claudette. Rindy works as an EMT and frequently in the emergency room of the hospital.

She lives with us in the old house that was left here by the former occupants. Carol gutted the thing, while I was forced to live on planet as she cleaned up the moon and finished the last little bit of phase one terraforming. A bacteria had killed off the original humans on planet, but since Carol was an Outlier and her crew too, they had no problems finishing what was left behind. The house looks like some old style monstrosity on the outside, but inside it’s a lovely modern creature like Carol’s old apartment. We live on one side and Rindy has always lived on the other. Both of us sharing the kitchen and lower living space.

Rindy hardly lives in the house as she has a habit of working so much she never sleeps. In fact, Carol on more than one occasion has to track her down and force her to sleep or take a forty-eight hours off. As the woman has no stop button. This is one of those weekends.

It’s good to see her with Claudette. They were fast friends, and sometimes I wonder if they’ll ever be more, but both have been through so much. It’s not always easy finding your Carol in life.

I realize I’m the luckiest dame in the galaxy that I’ve got her. She sits me down on the stool, standing next to me, arm wrapped around me. Even after so many years, my core heats up just from the proximity of her. We’ve always been a bit of cuddle bugs and everyone is still quite disturbed that our habits haven’t changed at all. She kisses me again as the bartender groans playfully.

“Get a room you two!” he teases us with a grin and snaps his towel in our direction. Carol waves her hand at him, ignoring him.

She gives me a small wrapped present instead of responding. I look up at her shaking my head, thinking it’s probably some fancy fancy shiny bangle. Carol is a non-stop gift factory when it comes to me and I have to make myself wear the things she buys, because I spent most my life having nothing. I have all her pretty gifts lined up and wear them in order so I don’t forget unless it’s something I particularly laugh. Carol had laughed at me once she discovered my system and tried to assure me I didn’t have to wear something I didn’t like.

I open the box and there’s an old style key.

“What’s this?”

“The surprise is at home,” she murmurs with a tiny grin. I smack her shoulder softly. “You thought it was another bracelet, didn’t you?” I grin at her and nod.

“You minx.”

“Ready?” she asks me. I nod as I go to fetch Rosa and meet her by the door. She’s saying goodbye to a handful of people and Rindy catches my eye to wave goodbye to me. Then, Carol helps me put on my jacket before we slip outside into the chilly night.

It’s springtime, but it still gets pretty cold in the evenings. A tight cobblestone path leads us through the center of the small settlement. Most everyone is at the speakeasy, but there are a few houses with kerosene lamps burning or a generator still popping away for the late nighters working in their workshops.

Our house looms the largest, not far away at the edge of the settlement. Carol wraps her arm through mine, pulling me close to make sure I’m warm enough. There aren’t any street lights that are massive, just speciality lights that combat light pollution so we can still see the brilliant night sky, covered in millions of stars and a stretch of galaxy.

I remember by first night on planet and seeing the night sky for the first time. I’d never cried so hard over such natural beauty before and since then Carol and I have made it a pact to protect as much of the natural beauty or create it and preserve it as we can—not like what happened on Earth. I cuddle deeper into her side and her arm tightens around me.

Our dogs reach a dirt path that will lead us home. Trees have grown into a tiny woodland in these parts. Thick enough off the path that you’d have to have some sort of light source not to be hurt. There’s the sounds of animals within, owls, raccoons, and squirrels, possums, and all sorts of critters. Crickets have started their symphony in the evenings too, along with the croaks of tree frogs. There aren’t any major predators yet except house cats and dogs. The counsel is still in discussion on what predators should be allowed and if possible not to the danger of the current inhabitants.

There’s a fenced in enclosure that houses a few pigs, goats, a heavy plow horse, sheep, and chickens. We have mechanical equipment too, but Carol also likes to manage her field manually on years that she isn’t busy with other work. Something about working the soil excites her in more ways than combat ever could. I think, she likes the act of growing things after so many years of killing things. So each year, she has taken on more and more of one man job of tending to her own field if she can. Usually the only thing stopping her is the strength of her horse and the lack of daylight hours. It’s amazing that something so simple yet hard has worked to heal some of her deepest wounds.

Dirt stained, sweaty, and fiercely beautiful as she pours her heart and soul into the rich, brown soil to grow the crops that will feed us through winter. We both work to harvest them as well as the town that we share them with, but Carol isn’t the only farmer. Though most of the others don’t hesitate to use machinery to farm their land and most of their produce is sold elsewhere in the galaxy. She just likes the idea of the community to come together and harvest manually for a day or two and having a big meal together. 

Something about the act draws us all closer together. 

We step into the massive foyer of our home. There’s two staircases that curve up to the second level, but she leads me through the bottom floor, along the marbled floors to the East wing and the back corner where I hardly ever go. There’s two double doors, now currently stained glassed with blue, orange, and red. I wonder if that’s Crystal, the glass blower’s work. I touch it with gentle fingers marveling at the work.

“Open up, darling,” she purrs. I hesitantly fish out the key, place it in the key hole and open the wooden doors to a beautiful personal musician’s studio. All the ambient lights are on along the dark wooden panels of the wall, dark burgundy floors, and special sound panels on the wall and ceiling. We step in and a magical feel encompasses us. It’s a safe haven from the chaos of her moon. As much as Carol loves people, I think I’ll always be a little more quiet as it’s my nature. I dearly love our people, but this place with Carol is what is home for me.

There’s space for the whole band, our drummer Skatz, Cristine the piano player, and the bugle player Maria. There’s also our sometimes singer Elsa. It’s amazing. There’s high tech equipment for recording, playback and everything we would need.

Tears crest down my cheek as I spin around and hug Carol tightly. Her lips press repeatedly against my cheek.

“Darling—”

“Thank you so so much!” I cry against her. Her arms tighten, slipping down to my thighs as she lifts me up and secures them around her waist. I wrap my arms around her neck and kiss her passionately and she carries me out of the room, closing the door.

There’s a back staircase that leads directly to our bedroom suite. It’s a two story majestic bedroom with floor to ceiling windows that change colors and a huge skylight that shows the stars. The bed is massive with silken sheets and massive pillows and a canopy that’s a deep rich purple.

A modern fireplace sticks out with a comfortable couch and a corner of books for Carol as she is much more of a reader and collector than me. I have a record player with a massive collection of artists as that’s more my vibe.

“Undress while I put something on,” she says as she sets me on the bed. I whimper as her warmth leaves me. She kicks on the fireplace as she passes, lighting the room in a lovely warm glow as well as herself. Her long lean legs are especially shown off as well as her bare arms and shoulders. Then, she digs through the records, pulling out what I am sure is one of our favorites of Ella Fitzgerald. 

By now, my jacket is discarded and I start unbuttoning my loose blouse as she turns to silkily ankle towards me. Hips sway to the music hypnotically. Her chin tucks and her eyes flicker slowly over my body like a panther on the hunt. She rarely let’s out her inner panther anymore, but oh, that was the woman I fell in love with as well as the gentle creature, she’s grown into with me. 

Her lips crash into mine as she finishes unbuttoning my blouse and her long fingered hands graze my sides, sending chills and pangs of longing through every inch of me. I pant as our lips break apart and she releases my bra with a flick and slides it off of me just as fast. I struggle to reach her zipper from this angle and she pulls away to help, mouth twisting in amusement, slipping off her tight dress and kicking it away. Then, without even thinking about her it, her own bra is off and she stands before me the majestic creature she is.

Carol hasn’t changed much. In fact, her skin is flawless these days without even a hint of the scars of what we went through on Earth. She is still the same powerful, graceful creature that I met and I am sure she will be the day something happens to either one of us. Neither one of us know when and if she will ever start to age or if her body will simply give out one day. 

She does age in other ways and as each year passes experiences more and more aches and pains like a normal joe or jane. She just doesn’t age in the typical way externally. I hate the idea of her losing her and so I pull her close to me as her lips meet again with the same level of passion, hands seeking and treasuring precious flesh. I try to pull her own the bed so I can feel as much of her flesh against mine. She’s nothing but fire and I want to feel her weight and presence—to overwhelm me as she is so capable of doing.

I never want to release her. I don’t want to share her with our friends. We no longer dream of those terrible days of running, but we always understand how precious our love is and how hard we had to fight for it. Every moment together is magic with her. The quiet ones and the raging passionate ones. She straddles me as she unbuttons my pants and we fight them off as she overpowers me to the bed, not afraid to be fierce and loving every minute as she growls against my flesh.

“Carol—” I hum and she listens, lathering a bite with kisses and licks as she scours my body for my most tender places as she’s not afraid to seek new sexual positionings and make me reach new heights under her artistic fingers. Her skills in that arena have only matured in time as well.

Blinking awake much later that night, I feel her fingers in my hair, stroking gently. She’s pulled back the canopy to look at the stars tonight which is a normal too as she doesn’t have to sleep as much as me. Sighing, I draw her attention back down to me and her fingers playfully tickle along my sides.

“Oh…Carol,” I whimper as I push myself up and steal her lips and she chuckles low, sending chills down my spine and making my toes curl against the wonderful sheets.

“Darling? Are you happy?” she asks me. “Is this everything you ever dreamed with me?” I pull away to meet her eyes.

“Carol…I couldn’t even dream before I met you,” I say, taking her face in my hand and straddling her perfect body. “You’ve given me everything and more, so much more than I ever imagined could exist in this world. You gave me a family and a home.” 

“A family?” she snorts. “Rindy?”

“My band, Claudette, and this crazy settlement,” I say. “Our wild crazy family and yes, Rindy too.” I steal more kisses from her. “Don’t tell you don’t see her as a daughter.”

“And if I do—Do you ever want a child, darling?” she asks me. I shake my head, because unless I can have that child be Carol’s too and we can’t thanks to Eos Corporation. They have the only rights to creation of new originals or any sort of mix on their genetic code. 

“Carol, what is this about? Do you want a child?”

“I don’t think I’d be a good mother, but I want you to have everything you want or need,” she admits, cheeks red. 

“You’d be a fantastic mother, but…Carol, I’m happy. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, no children needed. I don’t have any experience with kids, so seriously…let us be the weird aunts for every kid in the colony.” Carol laughs at that and I start kissing down her neck, familiar with her and her own needs.

“Mmm, bunny…” She rocks against me, still reveling when she’s the center of my attention and everything’s for her enjoyment. There are still some things that are so new and will send her into tears if it’s too overwhelming, so I’m always gentle. Light velvet touches over silky skin and a warm tongue and soft lips over meters of flesh. Carol is more sensitive than she likes to admit about the act of making love and it makes my heart ache at how she was so dreadfully abused under rougher hands. So I’m soft, yielding, and always listening to Carol’s needs until she’s over the top and moaning my name. She shutters against me, tears drip down her face as she smiles against my cheek. “Oh darling.”

The magic that is Carol lays undone beneath me and I’ll take every night for the rest of our days like this. We curl up together and whisper back and forth—talking about nothing and everything as we do.

***

It’s been twelve days without Carol. She went to the Five Colony counsel meeting for the local moons and planet which happens once every year. Normally, I would go with her, but a lot has been happening with the band and we had two important concerts during her trip, so I couldn’t go. Neither of us liked it as we rarely have spent more than a day at most apart and even rarer a night apart.

Bees buzz around me from their hutches. They’ve always been mine to look out for. I just have the mask and gloves on as I harvest the honey into jars from the elaborate system one of our more creative and budding scientist created. I carry them over to the picnic table, pulling off the bee hat and gloves, before spotting Carol by the house.

The sun sparks against her golden hair, a blue blouse and pants with leather boots set her off against the longer willowy grass that surrounds the house. Her hand is on her cocked hip. Her lips twitch into a ruby red smile as I run toward her. Her arms open wide as I leap into her arm and her warm laughter rolls over me like a waterfall.

“I missed you so much, bunny,” she declares, twirling me around. “We must never do that again. I couldn’t sleep a wink without you.”

“I love you so much,” I whimper, crying at seeing her. She kisses the side of my face repeatedly in her playful way before our lips meet passionately.

“You are my sunshine, my everything, my darling—bunny,” she says as she presses me against the wall lightly. Tongue gracefully licking my lower lip before seeking refuge in my mouth playful yet domineering. “Mine.”

The warmth of the sun dapples against her shoulder blades as my fingers thread to her hair. I lean my head against her neck.

“Hold me, please,” I whisper and she glides us carefully to the ground with the sound of junebugs in the distance. The grass comes to our chests as she curls me into her lap. Her fingers circle into my back. I press my forehead to her neck, my own fingers against her waist. “It felt like months without you here.”

“We haven’t been separated that long since…the facility,” she admits. “But this time I couldn’t see you. I just worried…and worried.”

“You’re here now and believe it or not, our little moon didn’t fall apart without you,” I tease as she chuckles again. Did I miss that sound as the vibration feels me with joy.

“God, I love you, Therese. You’re the best, most gentle creature that I’ve ever known.” I nuzzle her cheek and the sound she emits seems like a purr. “I never want to leave home again.”

“You’re pretty special too, Carol. You have so much space to care for your people. The university is opening in a few weeks. We finally have enough accredited professors to open and start training higher level academics. It’s really happening. Your dream for your people. Art, music, culture…science. Everything.”

“But your my most important person,” she says, kissing me again repeatedly until I’m laughing. “Carol, we’re cuddling not—not—”

“Playing…I don’t know, bun,” she says in a low voice that sends delightful chills through me. “I feel awful playful.” Her eyes drift to her jacket which has flattened the grass a little. She scoops me up and makes amazing love to me that echoes fireworks along my skin and soul.

We lay there in the grass, gently talking about Carol’s adventures off colony and how she wishes she could always stay home with me and that’s never going to leave my side again, because she can’t bear it. Home, our home, here with me forever. Our bodies tuck tightly together in the warm yellow streams of sunlight, partially dressed in unbuttoned blouses and trousers. My fingers trace lazily along her curvy abdomen as I meet those glorious wonderful blue eyes that beam at me with a love that is beyond anything that I have ever known.

This is home, that look and this woman. I lift myself up and over her as I begin the gentle conquest of reminding her of my own love for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're here at the very end. I've so enjoyed writing this fic for you. I hope you enjoyed the wonderings and my own version of Carol and Therese. It was definitely fun writing it and hearing all your thoughts. Thank you again for reading and enjoying this with me. You guys are so great! It's been a pleasure and an honor to write for you.


End file.
